


it used to be the two of us, and now you’re here

by somanystars



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 1998)
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Alternate Universe, Angst, Broomhead is awful, Canon Related, Developing Relationship, Drama, F/F, Friendship, Past and Present, Romance, Witch Training College AU, diary entries, letter writing, mentions of physical abuse, relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-03-05 08:19:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 53,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18824806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somanystars/pseuds/somanystars
Summary: She looked at Imogen, she seemed so innocent, so naïve. Constance wondered why someone like that would ever want to spend time with her. She was so pure, and Constance so imperfect and broken.





	1. these dreams of you don’t lie

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AU in which Imogen and Constance are both witches, and attended Witch Training College together, until Mistress Broomhead has other ideas. I realise their irl age difference is too much for them to have been students together, but I figure since it's already an AU that I could bend that a bit and make them the same age. I hope the transitions between present and past are clear enough, I didn't want to out right put the past sections in italics.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [](https://imgur.com/VlEoyfL)  
> (chapter image by me)

“But P.E Miss Cackle? Is that really necessary at a school for Witches?” While Constance did foster the idea of ‘a healthy mind and a healthy body’ she wasn’t sure going as far as having a whole subject on the matter was Miss Cackle’s best idea.

“Constance, the matter is not up for discussion, it’s important for the girls to have a well rounded education, they need some activity in their lives.”

Constance opened her mouth to protest more, but before she could speak Miss Cackle cut her off, “She will be here this afternoon, I expect you to do your best to make her feel welcome.”

“Very well, Miss Cackle,” Constance accepted defeat, sometimes she just had to let Miss Cackle make her own decisions, she is the Head Mistress after all. Constance sighed, “What, may I ask, is this new teacher’s name?”

Miss Cackle opened up the file she was carrying, scanning it she answered, “Imogen Drill.”

“I-Imogen? Imogen Drill? Are you sure Miss Cackle?” Constance had not heard that name in a very long time, to say she was surprised was an understatement, “Let me see that file,” she said taking the file from Miss Cackle’s hands. Sure as sure could be it was her all right, _‘Well…this shall be… interesting to say the least,’_ Constance thought, studying the photo attached to the top of the page.

“Is there a problem, Constance?”

Recognising her reaction was clearly raising questions she didn’t want to answer, Constance answered, “No problem at all Miss Cackle.”

“Very well,” Miss Cackle sensed Constance was not telling her everything but she was quite used to that and decided to not think about it further, she just hoped her fearsome deputy wouldn’t scare this new teacher off instantly, “be kind to her Constance,” she added for good measure.

“No need to worry Miss Cackle, I am a professional, after all.”

***

Imogen approached the gate, and looked up at the sign above it, “Miss Cackles Academy for Witches,” she said, “this must be the place.” She got off her bike, and walked through the gate. She was a little nervous at the thought of teaching Witches. The first day of a new job anywhere was always unpredictable, it could so easily turn into either a great experience or a terrible one. As she approached the courtyard she noticed two women standing at the doorway to the castle, she walked over to them, “Welcome, you must be Imogen!” The woman said, with a warm cheery voice, “I’m Amelia Cackle, Head Mistress of this Academy.”

Imogen held her hand out, to shake Miss Cackle’s hand, “Imogen Drill, a pleasure to meet you Miss Cackle.”

Imogen turned her attention to the other woman who spoke before she could say anything, “Constance Hardbroom, Deputy Head Mistress and Potions teacher.”

Imogen took in the woman standing in front of her and wondered how she ever forgot that face, how it had been so long that this impressive, gorgeous, and formidable woman had been absent from her thoughts? Images, emotions, sensations, came rushing back into her mind, “Constance? _Constance Hardbroom?_ ” She repeated her name hoping it would help clear her mind, but instead she felt even more perplexed, and slightly light headed.

“You two know each other?” Miss Cackle asked, looking first at Constance then back to Imogen.

“ _My_ Constance Hardbroom?” She spoke without thinking, she was still trying to process what was happening.

* * *

“Imogen hurry up, our class starts in three minutes, we mustn’t be late!” Constance exclaimed, shoving her spells book into her bag.

“Yes, I know, I just need to find my book,” Imogen said, semi-absentmindedly, looking around the room.

Constance quickly scanned the room, “It’s over there, on the desk next to your potions book, now hurry up! I’m not about to get scolded by Mistress Broomhead again because we’re late.”

Imogen went over to the desk, quickly picked up her book and shoved it into her bag. The two girls then hurried down to the classroom.

The rest of the class was already walking into the room when they arrived, they had just made it. It did not go unnoticed though, “Cutting it a bit fine aren’t we, Drill and Hardbroom? If I were you two I would be more attentive to when your class starts, especially after this morning.”

“Yes, Mistress Broomhead,” they both answered in unison, taking their seats.

Constance shot Imogen a look which said, _‘I told you so.’_

“Sorry,” she whispered back.

The class began and throughout the lesson Constance tried her best to redeem herself and Imogen, she did not fancy another night in detention with Mistress Broomhead, the previous time nearly broke her. She also didn’t want Imogen to suffer the same fate as her, becoming Broomhead’s pincushion. She cared about her too much to let that happen. She looked at the girl next to her, she seemed so innocent, so naïve. Constance wondered why someone like that would ever want to spend time with her. She was so pure, and Constance so imperfect and broken.

***

Constance liked to spend her free periods in a tucked away in a corner of the library, she preferred to study without distractions, and found the isolation calming. She was working her way through her Advanced Spells homework when her concentration was broken, “Anyone would think you’re avoiding me, lucky I’m not just anyone and know you better than that,” Imogen said, sitting in the chair across from Constance.

Constance looked up at her companion, to acknowledge her, and then looked back at her spells book.

“Constance, you’re not seriously still mad at me are you? I said I was sorry.”

“I know you’re sorry Imogen, I just can’t risk getting into more trouble with Broomhead. She’s always watching me, and if I step out of line just once that’s it,” she tugged at her long sleeves to cover her wrists and hands some more.

“I wish you would tell me what she’s been doing to you Constance, you may not realise it but I am here for you.”

“It’s fine, really, you don’t need to concern yourself with it,” Constance said, turning her attention back to her homework.

Imogen relaxed in her chair, she knew something was happening and it frustrated her that Constance wasn’t letting her help her. She decided not to push the issue, and joined Constance in working on their spells homework, she could at least connect with her over their school work.

* * *

Constance stood flustered, she honestly did not know what to say. How could Imogen Drill, _her Imogen Drill_ be standing in front of her, and how in the entirety of the magical world had she ended up as a _P.E teacher_ of all things, it seemed so ordinary, “I think we need to have a word, Imogen,” she said, grabbing her arm. She looked back at Miss Cackle, “Some privacy, if you please Miss Cackle.”

Miss Cackle nodded, she quickly and quietly went back inside to her office.

“It _is_ you, isn’t it? Constance Hardbroom! I can’t believe this, what happened? Where have you been?” Imogen was delighted, if a little confused.

“I could ask you the same thing, Imogen,” Constance replied sternly, folding her arms, “I understand it was a long time ago, but I hardly think you’ll be able to justify why you just left, without a trace, not even a note!”

“Me? Leave you? Never!” Imogen countered, she had to admit, her memory was hazy, but she couldn’t fathom how she could have been the one to just up and leave.

“That’s not how I remember it.”

“Constance, you have to believe me, I would never have just left you. I don’t have an answer as to why but I honestly can’t remember what happened.”

Constance could tell Imogen felt she was telling the truth, in all the years she had known her she never knew her to be a liar.

“Very well, we shall endeavour to get to the bottom of this, let’s get you settled in.” Constance said, gesturing for Imogen to follow her inside, “Before we go inside, I just have one question, how on earth did a promising young witch such as yourself end up as a simple P.E teacher?”

“Constance what are you playing at, I’m not a witch!” Imogen laughed, and was met with a confused stare from Constance.

“What are you talking about, of course you are, we went to school together.”

“No we didn’t, we met at a teaching conference, and I think I would know, I am definitely not a witch,” Imogen replied, still finding the idea ludicrous.

“Something is _very_ wrong,” Constance said, her face wearing a worried expression.


	2. life keeps moving forward and i’m ten steps behind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who is reading <3\. I don't quite know how long this will be, but there's still plenty to explore with poor Constance.
> 
> [](https://imgur.com/PlgWXj4)  
> (chapter image by me)

“Constance Hardbroom, I expected more of you, I do not know what has gotten into your head lately girl, but this is not acceptable! I did not agree to personally tutor you only to have you behave like _this!_ ” 

Constance flinched at the sound of the table shaking from the force just applied to it. She’d been hit too many times by that hand, the motion of it striking the table was enough to make her react. 

“Well? What do you have to say for yourself?” Demanded Mistress Broomhead, her hand still firmly on the table where she’d slammed it, “How do you expect to become a teacher if you can’t even properly prepare for your classwork?!” 

“But Mistress Broomhead, you only said to do up to the fifth chapter, how was I to know you wanted the next three chapters also?” Constance replied softly, she dared not look up. 

“Speak up, girl!” 

“I’m sorry Mistress Broomhead, it won’t happen again.”

“For your sake, Constance, it had better not. I do not care for wasting my time on girls who refuse to listen. You may go, but don’t think this incident clears you from detention this evening. You will meet me in the usual place.” 

Constance stood up and nodded, “Yes Mistress Broomhead,” she replied. She wasn’t ever going to give that putrid creature the satisfaction of seeing her upset, so she held onto her emotions and refused to let them escape while she was still in her presence. 

As soon as she exited the classroom, she ran to her room. She thrust open the door and slammed it shut with an equal amount of force. She stood clutching her school bag and stood with her back against the door. She slowly lost control of her emotions, as the tears flowed down her cheeks, she decided there and then that even though she had to suffer through another year of personal tutelage of Mistress Hecketty Broomhead she would not become like her. With all the strength she had she made a promise to herself. 

She got up off the floor and went over to her desk, it was tidier than Imogen’s, she preferred to have only the essentials and to have them be neatly arranged. She did sometimes envy Imogen’s way of ‘organised chaos’ as she called it, her ability to find what she was looking for even though there seemed to be no system. _‘Of course she would have her own system,’_ Constance thought. 

She sat down at her desk, and began to prepare for her detention that evening. She decided that she would do whatever she could to please Mistress Broomhead. It was true that she opposed almost everything about her, however, she feared the punishment that would await her more than she longed for freedom from her, so she would go above and beyond with her schoolwork, hoping that meant not being punished again. 

***

When Imogen returned, Constance was still at her desk working. She could see the strain she was putting herself under, “Constance you really should take a break, especially because you have detention to go to in an hour. You don’t want to be exhausted when you get there,” she said, putting her hands on Constance’s shoulders. 

“If I don’t do all of this beforehand, being exhausted will be the least of my problems, besides I took some Wide-Awake Potion,” She turned to look at Imogen and could see the concern on her face, “it was only a little bit Imogen, I’m fine.” 

Imogen reached into Constance’s school bag and pulled out the potion bottle, “Only a little?” She said examining the small amount left.

Constance went to grab the bottle from Imogen’s hand, but Imogen pulled away.

“Okay, okay, I promise I won’t take anymore,” she began, “can I have the bottle back now?” She asked, holding her hand out.

“You promise you won’t make more?” Imogen asked, still holding the bottle tightly.

“I promise,” Constance replied, her hand still outstretched. 

“Fine, here you go,” Imogen said, giving her the bottle, “I just worry about you, you’re under so much strain from Broomhead. I care about what happens to you, Constance, I don’t want her to hurt you.” 

With the afternoon’s events still fresh on her mind, and thoughts of what likely awaited her in detention, she looked at Imogen, smiled, and said, “Thank you Imogen, I care about you too.” 

Imogen stepped forward and placed her arms around her friend, “One day we’ll be out of here, free, and we’ll be in our own school, together, where there will be no one like Broomhead.” 

Tears formed in Constances eyes as she nodded into Imogen’s neck. 

 

***

The staff room was quaint, hardly what she would describe as cosy, but the furniture was at least comfortable. Walking over to the wooden table Imogen picked out a chair and sat down, “What do you mean ‘very wrong’?” She asked. 

“It seems this will take some explaining,” Constance said, sitting across from Imogen, “but first, what exactly do you remember?” 

“Well, I don’t know really, I just have a memory of meeting you at a week-long teaching conference and we got on well and became close. We kept in touch for a year or so after that and started seeing each other and then one day you just weren’t there anymore, I never knew what happened to you,” Imogen explained.

“I see,” Constance said, “so you have no memory of our time at Witch Training College together? No memory of Mistress Broomhead?” 

“Broomhead? Now, that name does sound familiar, was she a teacher or something?” 

“You could say that,” Constance explained, “she took it upon herself to be my personal tutor, probably just for the sole purpose of making my life miserable.” 

“Just saying the name does make me feel uncomfortable,” Imogen said, “was she my teacher too?” she asked.

“She was,” Constance answered simply, “she hated us both, but I think she took great pleasure in punishing me in particular. Probably figuring that if I were miserable it would make you miserable too.” 

“So we were close?” Imogen asked.

“Imogen, you were my only friend,” she paused, “my companion…the only one who cared, who was brave enough to be friends with the girl that incurred the wrath of Mistress Broomhead. No one else dared to be around me for fear of facing the same fate.” 

“Constance, I-”

“It’s all right Imogen, we will figure this out and you will remember too.” 

“We will,” Imogen said, full of resolve.

“There is a potion we could try, which recovers lost memories,” Constance explained, “if you trust me enough, Imogen.”

“I trust you with my life, Constance, I don’t quite know why, but I have a feeling that potion you want to make me will answer that question,” Imogen answered. 

***


	3. those memories and that life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided for the memory portions, to put those in italics, since they're fragments anyway I figure it will make it stand out better than from when the story takes a detour into the past. I hope everyone reading is enjoying it.
> 
> [](https://imgur.com/l5CA7SW)  
> (chapter image by me)

Miss Cackle decided she’d left Constance and her new P.E teacher alone long enough, she was really just too curious as to what Imogen had meant by _‘My Constance Hardbroom’_. Somewhere in the back of her mind she reasoned that Constance was (however much she liked to disagree) capable of emotional attachment and likely had been involved at least on some level with women in the past. It was very clear to her that if Constance were to ever be romantically involved with anyone it would be with a woman, she knew she thought very little of men and was much more comfortable in the company of women. _‘Perhaps Imogen is and old flame?’_ she thought as she walked up to the staffroom door. She knocked and slowly opened the door, not wanting to outright barge in and interrupt, “May I join you ladies?” 

“Of course Miss Cackle,” Constance replied, “I was just getting Imogen up to speed with the workings of the school.” 

She didn’t believe it for a second, but she wasn’t about to challenge her, “I see,” she said, turning her attention to the P.E teacher, “Imogen, I hope Constance has made you feel welcome here.” 

“Very much Miss Cackle,” Imogen replied. 

“Good to hear,” Miss Cackle said, looking over at Constance, hoping to glean some truth out of her. 

“Miss Cackle, I would like to show Imogen some of the classrooms, and will need to utilise the Potion Lab briefly this afternoon, we will also require no interruptions, is that all right?” 

“There are no planned classes in there for this afternoon, so I don’t suppose there would be a problem with that, but I can’t guarantee you’ll be safe from the prying eyes of the girls,” Miss Cackle explained. 

“I will see to it that there are no opportunities for interruptions from anyone Miss Cackle,” Constance replied bluntly.

“As you wish, Constance,” while she trusted her deputy and knew she had her reasons, that didn’t mean she felt completely at ease with Constance’s proposition. 

***

Constance did indeed follow through on her proposition of showing Imogen around the school, she figured it would be the most sensible way to not raise suspicion. They finished up the tour at the Potion Lab. Once they were inside, Constance cast both a silence spell around the room and a round-a-bout spell so that anyone thinking of walking over to the windows or the door would be instantly deterred and turn around. 

“That should do it,” she said, “now, I will prepare the necessary ingredients.” 

Imogen was impressed, and a little taken aback by Constance’s command over her magic, “Was I always this in awe of you and your magic?” 

“No need to gawk Imogen, you were once able to do all of this too,” Constance replied, feeling pleased with herself, she still managed to be able to impress her. 

Imogen smiled, she still couldn’t quite imagine herself as a witch, let alone one as skilled as Constance, “Can I do anything to help with the potion?” She asked. 

“Of course, if you look in that cupboard you will find these ingredients,” Constance handed Imogen a piece of paper, on which she had written the names of several herbs and other ingredients they would need.

Imogen took the paper from Constance’s hand and read through the list, she smiled looking at Constance’s elegant handwriting, the elongated letters made it all the more striking and memorable.

“What is it Imogen?” Constance noticed Imogen’s smile.

“Oh, nothing, just your handwriting, I forgot how much I liked it,” she replied. 

Constance had never thought very much of it, though she did place high value on good penmanship, and felt it was an important practice. 

Imogen returned with the ingredients on Constance’s list and placed them on the desk in front of her. Constance had begun to grind some herbs down in mortar and pestle and sprinkled a little into the cauldron. It didn’t take a great deal of time for her to finish the potion, she was skilled in her craft and took pride in being able to complete tasks efficiently and successfully. 

“Is that it?” Imogen asked, looking into the silver liquid in the cauldron, “Are we done?” 

“I believe so,” Constance replied, stirring the liquid once before scooping some up into a glass jar. She then handed Imogen the jar, “Take a sip of this, just a sip, we don’t need to go too far into your past, just the time when we were at Witch Training College,” she instructed, “also remember, you must concentrate. When you start seeing memories, focus, and you will be able to hold onto them. Then tell me what you’ve seen,” she explained. 

Imogen nodded and took a sip. 

_* * *  
“Ah, Imogen, I was just thinking about you-,” before she could finish, Imogen interrupted her and said with a smile, “Good things I hope?” _

_“Always my dear, now look; I learnt it this morning,” Constance crossed her arms and within a second she was gone._

_Imogen stood looking around wondering what she had just witnessed, as she turned back around to where Constance had been standing, her friend reappeared, “Wow Constance that’s impressive! Did Broomhead teach you that in your lesson?”_

_“She did,” she answered. Mention of her tutor’s name soured the mood slightly, but Constance was too pleased with herself for being able to do such advanced magic that she didn’t let it bother her._

_“You know, as much as I don’t envy you for having that old hag as your tutor, I wish I could learn advanced magic like that too,” Imogen said._

_“You will, Imogen, in time,” Constance said, and crossed her arms again and disappeared, she was having too much fun with her new ability._

_“So this is how it’s going to be hey? I see, you get cool new magic and I’m left here alone?!” Imogen called out to Constance, hoping she was at least nearby to hear her complaining._

_“Oh Imogen stop being such a wet blanket, here, look,” Constance reappeared and took Imogen’s hands in hers, and within seconds the two of them were transported outside the school and then back into the library where they had started._

_“Wow Constance, that was amazing,” Imogen said, beaming, “You definitely need to teach me how to do that!”_

_* * *_

_“Constance you have to tell me what she’s been doing to you, we can’t just let her keep treating you like this!” Imogen pleaded._

_“Imogen, it’s fine, I’m fine,” Constance didn’t want to make a bigger fuss out of this than need be._

_“No, Constance, it’s not. You’re not fine,” Imogen said, looking at the red patches on Constance’s hands, she daren’t imagine what other damage Broomhead had done to her._

_Constance looked defeated, and exhausted but she wasn’t going to let Broomhead win, she quietly said a spell and the evidence of Broomhead’s displeasure was erased from her hands, physically anyway._

_* * *_

_Imogen stood outside Mistress Broomhead’s office, Constance was in there getting scolded again. She never did anything wrong, but Broomhead had such ridiculous standards which she expected Constance to reach. She knew it was not because she wished to see Constance do well, but because she didn’t want to be seen as a failure for not being able to make Constance into her image, she had put ‘considerable effort’ and ‘precious time’ as she liked to say into making Constance her protégé._

_“This is so unfair,” Imogen muttered to herself._

_Soon after, Constance was allowed to leave and it was Imogen’s turn. Constance looked at her friend knowingly, wishing her luck for surviving Broomhead’s onslaught._

_“Miss Imogen Drill, I have been watching you, don’t think I don’t know about you and Constance. You are a distraction to her, nothing more. You are doing nothing for her schoolwork and her concentration is lacking because of you! She is a bright and talented witch, who does not need the distractions from the likes of you to pull her away from her path.” Broomhead’s voice was raised, and certainly she spoke sternly, but she wasn’t outright yelling. Imogen wasn’t sure if she should be more or less afraid._

_“Yes Mistress Broomhead,” Imogen couldn’t say anything else._

_“Now, listen girl, this is your final warning, if I catch you two again, it will be the end of you. Now go!”_

_* * *_

_“Constance? Did you just do what I think you did?” Imogen said, surprised at the sound she just heard escape her friend’s mouth._

_“Certainly not,” she said, trying not to let it happen again._

_“You did, you just giggled!”_

_“Don’t be ridiculous Imogen, I would never do such a thing,” Constance answered, failing to restrain her laughter._

_“Well I think it suits you, you should do it more often,” Imogen said._

_“It’s probably because I spend so much time around you anyway, you’re a terrible influence on me Imogen Drill,”_

_“I think you mean that I am a great influence on you,” Imogen said, brushing a loose hair from Constance’s face._

***

The images began to fade from Imogen’s mind.

“Well? What did you see?” Constance asked, impatiently.

“Constance, I think I’m beginning to understand what happened, but what I saw wasn’t enough, I’ll need to take some more of the potion to be sure,” Imogen answered. 

“I understand, but not today, you’ve put your mind through a lot. Take some time to process the memories you recovered and we can try again tomorrow,” Constance told her, “I will bottle this potion so we have a good supply for future attempts.” 

Imogen nodded, she was tired after the experience and certainly needed some time to process what she’d seen. 

***


	4. show me what you keep hidden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [](https://imgur.com/FHdzYzZ)  
> (chapter image by me)

* * *  
The corridor was dark, lit only by the few candles which lined its walls. Constance had just returned from her one-on-one lesson with Broomhead, and was both exhausted and starving. She knew it would be too late to get any food from the kitchen. She entered her and Imogen’s room and noticed her friend was still awake and laying on her bed, “Constance you’re back, I was beginning to think you’d be down there forever,” Imogen said, sitting up. 

“It felt like it, I’m exhausted. Do we have any food in here, I’m starving,” Constance asked, looking around the room. 

“Nope, it all got confiscated on the last inspection,” Imogen replied, “but I suppose now that you have that cool new disappearing power, we could sneak out and go to the village to get some food?”

“Imogen, either you or I is mad, because I am inclined to agree with you. I haven’t had a chance to eat all day,” Constance answered.

“Everyone’s asleep anyway, so none of the teachers will be around to check, plus we’re adults, we should be allowed to go out if we want to,” Imogen said, standing up and finding her shoes. 

“Quickly then, before anyone notices,” Constance said, grabbing Imogen’s arms and transporting them just outside the village, so no one saw them. 

“Not much is open at this hour, do you want to just go to the pub?” Imogen asked.

“ _The pub?_ ” For Constance, just saying the word felt wrong, let alone the idea of actually stepping foot inside.

“Do you want to eat or not?”

“Fine,” Constance was too tired and hungry to argue, “let’s go.”

Imogen had always wanted to do this: sneak out at night with Constance and take her somewhere so far out of her comfort zone to show her that it really wasn’t as bad as she made it out to be, and maybe just maybe she would even enjoy herself. She knew it was asking a lot, but she had gotten her to agree to go inside at least. 

They walked up to the pub and walked inside, they were well over legal age, so they didn’t have to worry about that, but Constance still felt like she was a schoolgirl about to get caught in a place where she shouldn’t be. 

They picked a booth at the back, and ordered some food and drinks for good measure. Imogen figured that would help Constance to forget her school troubles, and actually enjoy herself. She deserved it. 

* * *

“It’s late, we should be getting back Imogen, Broomhead will actually murder us this time if she finds out,” Constance was still anxious about being caught, and even though she had had a better time than she anticipated she would, she knew of the reality that awaited her back at the college if they were caught. 

“Let’s go then, let’s go back into the forest before we do your special trick,” Imogen said, getting up and putting her coat back on. 

“It’s not a trick Imogen, it’s powerful advanced magic,” Constance retorted.

“Yes, Constance we all know you’re very clever,” Imogen smirked as she walked past Constance and left the pub. 

Constance stood and rolled her eyes, _‘why do I put up with her?’_ she thought, following after her friend. She caught up to Imogen and they headed into the forest, out of sight of anyone who may be watching. Constance took hold of Imogen’s hands and within seconds they were back in their room, as if they had never left. 

Constance sighed with relief as they rematerialised in safety, “I cannot believe we got away with that, we had better get into bed.” 

Imogen nodded.

Once they were in their beds, Imogen said, “Thanks Constance.”

“For what?”

“For agreeing to my crazy plan and actually coming out with me tonight.”

“I was exhausted, I was hardly going to take much convincing.”

“Even if I took you to a pub?”

“Even though you took me to a pub,” Constance said, turning on her side to face Imogen’s side of the room, “now stop talking and go to sleep.”

“Yes Miss Hardbroom,” Imogen said playfully. 

“ _Miss Hardbroom?!_ ” 

Imogen could feel Constance’s eyes rolling and let out a small laugh, “What? You sounded like a teacher,” Constance turned over, facing the wall and sighed loudly, “okay, okay, I get the message, good night dear Constance. She paused before adding, “Just think when you’re a teacher you’ll have pupils calling you Miss Hardbroom all the time.” 

“Go to sleep, Imogen.” She couldn’t help but wonder as she drifted to sleep what it would be like to one day be addressed by her future pupils as ‘Miss Hardbroom’. She felt a sense of accomplishment at the thought of students using her title. 

***

Imogen managed to sleep well, despite having a lot on her mind. She had been tired from her trip to the castle and needed the rest. Miss Cackle had shown her to her room, where she was given basic amenities and was allowed to decorate as she wished. Miss Cackle had informed her that all of the staff members had the same lodgings and had also incorporated their own touches to the decorating. She found it comfortable enough, as comfortable as a room in an old castle could be anyway. She was going to meet up with Constance again later that day and see if she could help her recover more of her memories and hopefully answer why she had forgotten them in the first place. Imogen had begun to suspect that Mistress Broomhead likely had a large part in it. 

She got herself ready and decided to go down to the staff-room and eat some breakfast, she had been told that they had a variety of options. She preferred fruit for breakfast, something healthy to get her going for the day, and a strong cup of tea of course.

When she arrived at the staff-room she was met by Miss Cackle, Constance, and a third woman, who she assumed to be another teacher she hadn’t yet met. 

“Welcome Imogen! Welcome! Welcome to Cackle’s!” The woman sung, dancing circles around Imogen.

“Thank you?” She said hesitantly. 

Constance was sat at the side of the table which was next to the wall, and so she could see the whole display, “Imogen, this is Davina Bat, chanting teacher,” she told her. 

“Nice to meet you Davina, I’m Imogen Drill,” she said, holding out her hand so Miss Bat could shake it.

Miss Bat took Imogen’s hand with hers and shook it vigorously, “Yes, yes dear I know, dear Amelia told me of your arrival, and I prepared a chant to celebrate the occasion,” she said taking the stick from her hair. 

“Perhaps now is not the time, Davina, perhaps we should let Imogen have some breakfast first?” Miss Cackle intervened and gestured for Imogen to sit down and join her and Constance. 

“Yes, yes of course. I will perform the chant for you later!” She said, gliding out of the room. 

“She certainly is,” she paused to find the right word, “lively.” 

“You get used to it,” Miss Cackle said, taking a spoon of her porridge.

“Miss Cackle, may I change the subject for a moment,” Constance said, for which Imogen was grateful. 

“Go ahead, Constance,” she said. 

“Imogen and I will be needing the Potion Lab again some time today, we were not able to finish the exercise yesterday.”

“As you wish Constance,” Miss Cackle replied, she desperately wanted to know what Constance was up to, but didn’t want to press the issue so soon into Imogen’s arrival. Changing the subject herself this time she turned to Imogen and handed her a piece of paper, “Imogen I almost forgot, this is your teaching schedule.” 

“Thank you Miss Cackle,” Imogen said, looking at the paper carefully. 

“Imogen, I must get going to my second year potions lesson, I will meet you at the Potion Lab at 4pm is that all right?” 

“See you then Constance, enjoy your lesson,” 

“Yes, well, I best get going, see you,” Constance answered, a hint of sarcasm in her first few words. 

***

“Remember Imogen, just a sip,” Constance instructed. 

Imogen nodded and drank some of the potion. 

“For goodness sake, I said a sip,” Constance said, looking at the half empty bottle. 

_Imogen walked purposefully towards the library, she knew Constance would be in there, she spent most of her free time tucked away amongst the many books, she enjoyed the exercise but sometimes she really did wish she could appear and disappear at will like Constance could. She made her way through the tall shelves and found Constance at a table at the back. She sat down opposite her, “Constance, you said you would be done an hour ago.”_

_“Imogen my studies cannot be rushed, besides I enjoy studying,” Constance answered._

_“Don’t you also enjoy spending time with me?”_

_Constance looked up from her book, directly at Imogen, she sometimes could not quite understand what the girl saw in her or why she wanted to be around her so much. Constance was, by nature, a solitary person and generally preferred her own company to that of others. The more she got to know Imogen, the more she realised she did enjoy spending time with others (as long as the other person was Imogen, she couldn’t imagine herself as being social in general). What made Imogen different was that she somehow understood her and understood her want to be alone sometimes. She appreciated Imogen’s patience, few people she had known across her life had that level of patience with her._

_Her training at the Witch Training College was intensive, and she was often pushed too far and became increasingly irritable due to the pressure placed upon her, but Imogen somehow understood all of this, and still chose to be her friend and wanted to spend time with her._

_“I do, Imogen, I just have a lot to do, you know what will happen if I am not prepared for this exam,” she replied._

_“Constance, you want to be at your best for the exam don’t you?” Imogen asked._

_“Of course, which is why I need to prepare for it,” Constance answered, wondering where exactly Imogen was going with this._

_“For you to be at your best, you need to rest occasionally, you don’t want to burn yourself out before you get to the exam,” Imogen explained._

_Sometimes she did enjoy the fact that Imogen forced her to take breaks, she secretly liked it when Imogen distracted her, “Fine, I suppose I can take a break.”_

_“Good, let’s go and sit at our favourite spot by the river,” Imogen suggested, she knew Constance would protest but she also knew getting some fresh air would be good for her._

_“Oh, is that really necessary, couldn’t we just take a break here?”_

_“The fresh air will do you good, now come on, let’s go,” Imogen said._

_“And I suppose I am taking us there?” Constance asked, knowing how much Imogen enjoyed her disappearing ability._

_“Of course, Broomhead will likely see us if we walk, and you know how she feels about us spending time together,” she crossed her arms, impersonating her fearsome teacher, ‘Imogen you’re too much of a distraction to Constance’ that’s what she says.”_

_“Very well then,” Constance said, walking over to Imogen, “For what it’s worth, you are a distraction, but one I quite enjoy having around,” she admitted._

_Imogen smiled, as they vanished from the library._

_Down at the river, they sat at their usual place, hidden from the outside world just as Constance preferred it._

_“I’m glad you like having me around Constance, I admire you for not just dumping me the moment Broomhead showed her disapproval. I’m sure it would be easier for you if you didn’t have me to distract you.” Imogen said, continuing their conversation._

_“That would be letting her win,” Constance said simply._

_Imogen rested her head on Constance’s shoulder, “We definitely cannot have that,” she said with a smile._

_“No, we cannot,” Constance said rubbing her hand._

_Imogen lifted her head from Constance’s shoulder, noticing her friend’s action, and turned to face her, “Constance, you can talk to me about it you know,” she said._

_“You don’t want to know, Imogen,” Constance said, looking at the trees on the other side of the river._

_“Constance I care about you, you don’t have to be alone in this.”_

_“If I show you, how do I know you won’t just run off, too horrified at the sight in front of you to stay, to ever look at me again,” Constance said quietly. She was already incredibly insecure about her body as it was, and the damage caused by Broomhead did nothing to alleviate that insecurity._

_“It’s all right Constance, I’m not going anywhere,” Imogen said softly._

_Constance hesitated before she undid the buttons on her sleeve, she heard Imogen tell her it was okay, so she rolled up her sleeve a little. Up the length of her arm were small scars._

_Imogen took Constance’s arm in her hand and ran her thumb over some of the scars, “She did this to you?”_

_“Her idea of discipline,” Constance answered, still not being able to look directly at Imogen._

_“Constance this is terrible, why hasn’t anyone put a stop to this, she can’t treat people this way!” Imogen exclaimed._

_“This is not the only example, there are more,” Constance added, softly, “which is why I wear such long dresses.”_

_“Show me,” Imogen said, trying to contain her anger._

_Constance undid her dress and revealed her shoulders._

_“No, no, we cannot let this keep going on, how can she do this?!” Imogen was angry now, she’d seen enough._

_“She is powerful Imogen, anyone who tries to defy her is never given the chance again,” Constance told her, doing up her dress._

_“Constance I want you to know, no matter what she has done to you, no matter what she says to you, you are beautiful and do not ever let anyone tell you otherwise,” Imogen said, looking directly at her, “and, Constance, please know that, that I love you.”_

_Constance looked at Imogen, all she saw was concern and love, she wondered how she had gotten this lucky. Before she could open her mouth to say anything back, Imogen lent forward and kissed her. She kissed her gently at first, breaking away quickly. Imogen was smiling, Constance, too, managed a gentle smile. Constance wrapped her hands around Imogen and kissed her again, this time with more force than the first._

***  
Imogen felt the potion wearing off, “I guess I took too much, that time?” 

“I was watching you closely, you were out for a while, what did you see?” She asked. 

Imogen stood up and took Constance’s right arm in hers, she undid the buttons on her sleeve and pulled it up, revealing her arm, “This, when you showed me this,” Imogen said softly, she had hoped that Constance would have found a way to magically remove the scars, but after all this time they were still visible, “they’re still there!” she couldn’t help but exclaim.

“I don’t know if I ever told you, but they were made using a dark magic, so they can’t be removed,” Constance explained.

“You didn’t tell me in the memory I saw,” Imogen said, “but you showed me what she had done to you.” 

“We were by the river, you dragged me down there away from my studies, you always had a habit of doing that, something about making me relax.”

Imogen smiled.

“You also told me you loved me that day, and if I recall correctly, it was also our first kiss,” Constance said.

“It was, I saw it all,” Imogen confirmed. 

Constance took the initiative and gently kissed Imogen, the memory of the first time they did this was fresh in her mind. She didn’t often let herself accept just how much she missed this. Imogen responded and kissed her back, Constance opening her mouth enough for Imogen’s tongue to make its way inside. Imogen felt the spark from Constance’s magic flow through her, in the moment she couldn’t imagine forgetting that feeling, and wondered how she ever had.


	5. i gazed into those eyes i like

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [](https://imgur.com/6FemorW)  
> (chapter image by me)

Constance transported them up to her room, now that she had a part of the Imogen she knew back, she was going to savour the moment. Breaking the kiss, she reached for Imogen’s shirt and pulled it over her head (she still didn’t gotten an answer out of her as to how she ended up as a P.E Teacher, and why she paraded around in exercise clothes all the time, not that she directly minded since they usually showcased Imogen’s figure quite well…but that was a thought for another time). Imogen noticed how much Constance was staring, smiled, and reached around her back to undo her bra, she pulled it off and dropped it onto the floor. 

Imogen then reached around to the back of Constance’s dress and carefully undid the buttons, she slid it off her revealing her pale skin underneath. She wore simple undergarments, she felt anything more was frivolous and pointless; function over form. Imogen went to take it off, “May I?” she asked, knowing exactly how self-conscious Constance was about her body. 

Constance nodded hesitantly. The rush of hormones had clouded her mind, and she hadn’t really thought too much about the fact that Imogen would see all of her, but she trusted her, so she let her. 

Imogen carefully removed the simple black bra, and placed it with the other clothes on the floor. 

“Still as gorgeous as ever,” she said. 

“You don’t actually mean that, Imogen, look at you, you can’t say I look gorgeous compared to you,” Constance said, not quite able to look Imogen in the eye.

“I _do_ mean it, Constance,” Imogen replied, cupping Constance’s left breast in her hand, running her finger over the hardened nipple. She then kissed it and then looked up at the women before her, “You are beautiful, Constance.”

Constance kissed her hard, so many conflicting emotions were running through her mind, but all she wanted in the moment was Imogen. 

***  
“Constance, are you ever going to tell me what you are doing with our new P.E Teacher in the Potion Lab everyday? Or are you just doing to continue to play me the fool and expect I won’t ask you about it? I am the Head Mistress, you know, I need to know what’s happening in my school. Especially if it involves two of my teachers,” Miss Cackle had had enough of Constance’s secrecy, she grew more curious as each day went on.

“It is nothing you need to concern yourself with Miss Cackle,” Constance offered. 

“I’m going to need more than that Constance,” Miss Cackle replied, her hands behind her back as she paced back and forth in front of Constance. 

Constance sighed, she supposed it was inevitable that she would have to let Miss Cackle in on at least some of the story, she didn’t feel right about telling her everything so she would just tell her what she needed to know to not ask more questions, “Very well, Miss Cackle, I shall endeavour to explain. It is quite simple really, Imogen,” no, that was too familiar, so she corrected herself, “Miss Drill and I attended Witch Training College together. I was of course surprised to see her here after so many years, especially given that she didn’t seem to remember actually being a witch. So I have been helping her, with the aid of a memory-recovery potion, to regain her lost memories.” Constance hoped this explanation would satisfy Miss Cackle, and that she wouldn’t feel the need to pry any further, but she knew her well enough to know that probably wasn’t going to happen. 

“I see, memory recovery can be tricky, do you have any idea why she lost the memories in the first place?” 

“Not as yet, Miss Cackle, there have been some clues but we have not yet discovered the true reason why she lost them,” Constance answered. 

“Very well, you can continue helping her, just be careful.” 

***  
Imogen was still supervising the third year volley-ball game by the time Constance had organised for them to meet, the match was going on longer than expected. The third year, she was surprised to learn, had some decent players amongst them. Imogen wished more of her students could see the value and enjoyment in sport, but she wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

“That’s it girls, go for it!” She cheered. She was captivated by their game, and didn’t notice Constance standing in the doorway to the courtyard. Constance had seen that the game was still going on from the classroom she had just come from, she continued to stand there and wonder how anyone would get enjoyment from throwing a ball across a net to each other, but each to their own, she decided. “And that’s a match!” Imogen called out, blowing her whistle to signify the end of the game, “Well done girls, excellent game.” Imogen looked up from her referee’s chair and noticed Constance standing in the doorway, “Miss Hardbroom!” She called out, getting down from her chair to help take down the net, “I’m surprised to see you here, I had no idea you were interested in sport!” She said, playfully.

The sound of laughter from the girls did not help the matter. 

“Miss Drill, I am needing to speak with you, as you may remember we have a meeting to attend.”

“I know, Constance, I haven’t forgotten,” she replied, out of ear-shot of the girls who were putting the equipment away, “

“Good, I shall see you in the Potion Lab in five minutes.”

Imogen helped the girls put away the rest of the equipment and then proceeded to go and find Constance in the Potion Lab. When she arrived she noticed that of course Constance had set everything up and was ready to start, she was obviously enjoying spending this extra amount of time with her, especially because it involved her favourite of the magical disciplines: potion making. 

“I promise I will take a small sip today, yesterday was intense,” Imogen said, as Constance handed her the jar containing the silver liquid. 

“In more ways than one,” Constance said, softly. 

“You could say that,” Imogen replied, with a slight grin.

“You can take the potion now,” Constance instructed. 

Imogen took a sip. 

_* * *  
“Constance you’d better be careful, or people might start to think you enjoy kissing me.”_

_“You should know by now that I don’t care what people think,” Constance replied._

_“I’ll just keep kissing you then, shall I?”_

_“I’m not complaining, though I’m not sure the corridor is the best place for it, we’d better leave or someone will see._

_“No one is around, they’re all too busy fawning over the Grand Wizard,” Imogen replied, and kissed Constance gently._

_“Which is where we should be too,” Constance told her, breaking the kiss, against her every will._

_“Come on, you don’t actually want to sit and listen to old Helliboring for two hours do you?”_

_“Of course not, but we are expected to be there, Broomhead will have our heads if we don’t get down there.”_

_“You and your reason,” Imogen said, following Constance down the stairs._

_* * *_

_Imogen looked up at the impressive castle before her, she was here, finally here: at Witch Training College. She had been looking forward to this moment for a long time. She walked through the gates and entered the courtyard area. There were many other girls scattered around, some standing together in small groups and some sitting on benches against the castle’s walls. She looked around and saw a girl, alone, at the back of the courtyard. She looked like she was reading something diligently, Imogen walked over to her, she looked like she needed some company._

_“Hello,” She said, siting on the bench next to the girl, “I’m Imogen, is this your first day too?”_

_The girl looked up from what she was reading, “It is,” she answered simply._

_“What’s your name?” Imogen asked. She really wasn’t giving her much to go on, perhaps she did not want to make friends? Still, Imogen felt compelled to be kind to her, she looked like she was the type of girl who didn’t usually have people be kind to her._

_“Constance Hardbroom,” She answered, closing the booklet she was reading, it was one that all new students were given and it detailed the rules and procedures of the school, as well as information on classes and the like, “why are you even talking to me anyway? Nobody ever wants to talk to me.”_

_“You looked lonely, and like you needed a friend,” Imogen replied, honesty was probably the best approach here._

_“I suppose you think that means we’re friends now?”_

_“I do, yes,” Imogen replied, she was determined to make this girl’s day somewhat positive._

_“I appreciate your honesty, people aren’t usually so straight-forward with me. People are usually afraid of me.”_

_* * *_

_“What did you just say?” Imogen wanted to make absolutely sure she heard her friend correctly._

_“Nothing, it’s not important,” Constance replied, trying to contain her embarrassment._

_“Come on, Constance,” Imogen said, her hands on her hips. The dress she had on was doing a spectacular job and showing her figure, she was quite pleased, especially with the effect it was having on Constance._

_“I said you look lovely okay,” Constance spoke quickly as to get it over with. Complimenting people was hard for her, especially people who she fancied. Not that she would ever tell Imogen that, because how could she ever feel the same way, it was preposterous._

_“See? Was that so hard?” Imogen said kindly, noting the redness on Constance’s face._

_“Just forget I ever said anything okay?” Constance said, knowing she never would._

_* * *_

The potion’s effect slowly wore off, and Imogen smiled, “We had some fun together, didn’t we Constance?” 

“Why do you say that? What did you see?” 

“Amongst other things, just a little moment of me looking fabulous in a nice dress and you blushing profusely,” Imogen said smiling as she remembered the memory. 

“Of course you would have to recall that, wouldn’t you,” Constance said, she always knew Imogen would never forget that. 

“You said I looked lovely,” Imogen said cheerily, proud that she had gotten that reaction out of Constance. 

“Yes, I remember, you don’t need to remind me,” Constance responded, “for some reason that moment was when I realised I _liked_ being around you, whatever made me think that, I do not know.” Constance could be playful too, and tease, when she wanted to. 

“Yes, how ever do you put up with me?” Imogen said, closing the distance between them.

“Yes, how indeed?” Constance replied, noticing exactly what Imogen was doing, and trying her best to not succumb to the feelings she definitely absolutely was most certainly not wanting to act on right here and now.


	6. your lingering voice echoes again and again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [](https://imgur.com/DdD325o)  
> (chapter image by me)

* * *  
Constance looked down at her hands, they were still raw from Broomhead’s ‘punishments’, she had tried several spells to get rid of the marks but none had been successful so far. She had picked one of the castle’s remote stairwells to collect her thoughts. She desperately wanted to cry, but she was strong and disciplined, she would not give into her emotions. It was _not_ an option. She envied Imogen sometimes for being able to freely express herself, she had not been brought up in a strict household under the guise of ‘traditional values’ as Constance had, and even now those same ‘traditional values’ continued to haunt her at the hands of her personal tutor. She hated her father for arranging this hell she so desperately wanted to escape. 

She tried another spell, it had worked for her in the past. She uttered the words and soon after the redness subsided and the evidence was gone; if only she could do the same for the scars. 

* * *  
With all of the memory-recollecting that she had been helping Imogen with over the past few days, Constance occasionally recalled some of her own. She was not a sentimental person by nature, she preferred to not dwell on her past; there were far too many things from it that she would rather forget, but she had to admit it was nice to know that amongst the darkness there had been light during her time at Witch Training College. She sat in the staff-room marking the first year’s potions exams, there were some promising students amongst the group but largely most of them still had no idea how to successfully brew a basic potion. She sighed, it was always difficult with first years. Her mind drifted back to her first year, she barely spoke to anyone, she concentrated hard on her work and did everything exactly as she was asked. Her potions teacher had been a fairly strict witch, and expected only the best from her students. She had instilled the idea in Constance that if you worked hard and applied yourself you would not be punished, and you would succeed in life. She was taught that discipline gave structure, and she enjoyed the sense of security it gave her. Miss Cackle walked into the staff-room, she went over and made herself a cup of tea, as she was doing so she noticed the distant look in her deputy’s eyes, “Constance?” 

Constance snapped quickly to face Miss Cackle, “Yes Miss Cackle?” 

“Is everything all right? You look thoughtful,” she replied, walking over to the table with her cup of tea and sat down. 

“Fine Miss Cackle,” she replied simply. 

Miss Cackle peered over at what Constance was marking and it made sense to her, “Ah, first year exams,” she said, “they certainly can be tiresome.”

Thankful that that was what Miss Cackle assumed she was thinking about she replied, “Indeed, and this year’s batch seem to be particularly in need of a wake-up call.” 

“Don’t be too hard on them, Constance, it is only their first year after all.”

“I will only do what is necessary to get them into shape and performing like competent witches,” she replied.

Changing the subject, Miss Cackle asked, “How is Imogen’s memory recovering going?” 

Constance did not really feel like engaging in Miss Cackle’s ‘small-talk’ but at least it was better than marking these exams, so she indulged her and went along with it, “We are making some progress, though we have not yet discovered the reason for her not being a witch anymore.”

“I wish you luck, and I hope you’re doing the right thing by trying to find out,” Miss Cackle warned, usually there was a good reason why memories had been forgotten, and sometimes they were better off staying that way. 

“I only want to do what is right for Imogen, Miss Cackle, I can assure you of that,” Miss Cackle was a little surprised by her deputy’s words, that was, in Miss-Hardbroom-Speak, the equivalent to a confession of love, she was not usually so open with her affections. 

“You care about her a lot, don’t you?” Miss Cackle decided to take a chance and address it directly. That was usually the best way to get anything out of her.

Constance was a little taken aback by Miss Cackle’s abruptness, but for as much as she didn’t say it and didn’t show it, she liked Miss Cackle, she had become a mother figure to her over the years, making up for many years without her own, “I do,” she answered simply, just because she liked Miss Cackle didn’t mean she would bare her soul to her. 

With that she didn’t wish to discuss it further, and returned her full attention to the first year’s exams.

Miss Cackle got the message, and returned her attention to her tea. 

***  
The sound of the bell ringing was music to Imogen’s ears, she dismissed her second year class and began putting the equipment they had been using away. After carrying the last of the netballs back to the shed, she decided that she needed to clear her mind and go for a run. So far she had had a busy day and needed a break from it. She was already adequately dressed for a run, so she decided to just go as she was. She walked over to the gate and exited the school grounds. 

She jogged at first, pleased that she was becoming more and more familiar with the surroundings and was finding herself creating different courses to run, as she continued she picked up the pace a little. She wondered to herself if Witch-Imogen had enjoyed the great outdoors also, she remembered liking sport and physical activity as a child, but she didn’t know if she could trust those memories anymore. 

While she ran her thoughts naturally drifted to Constance, she was glad she had been able to reconnect with her, for in her mind she was quite literally ‘the one who got away’. After the last day Imogen had seen her, she had tried looking for her but to no avail, and eventually she thought of her less and less. Though entering her thoughts every now and then over the years naturally the question of what happened to her appeared in her mind. She now wondered whether any of that actually happened, and if the truth was still to be discovered. If it indeed did have something to do with Mistress Broomhead, she wondered what she would think of the fact that Imogen had managed to reunite with Constance after all these years, she knew it would not end well for either of them, but she didn’t care, she was just happy that she had managed to find Constance again. 

Reaching the end of her route, she decided to turn around, the day was getting on and it would be dark soon, and she didn’t fancy being out in the woods alone at night. She jogged back to the castle and decided that a nice warm shower was in order. 

When she reached the castle’s gate, she stopped and did some post-run stretches and made her way up to her room. 

She was pleased at how much this room in this castle was starting to feel like hers, even after just a few days, it started to look like home. She sat down on her bed and took off her trainers, she then proceeded to stand up and take the rest of her clothes off, and walked over to her shower. As she turned the taps the warm water flowed over her tired body. This feeling was one she would never tire of: a warm shower to ease her muscles after a run. 

***  
Constance had finally finished marking the first year’s potions exams, it was already dark outside, she assumed the girls would be at dinner now. Thankfully, she was not on dinner duty, that was Miss Bat’s responsibility this evening. She did remember, however, that she was on lights-out duty, one which she enjoyed; wandering the empty darkened halls of Cackles’ Academy was comforting to her. She enjoyed it for the reasons that she was able to make sure all of the girls were safe and in their beds, and also for the peace and quiet the empty corridors offered. While she had been at school, and later in Witch Training College to an extent, she spent a lot of time sitting in empty stairwells, or empty corridors, safe from anyone who wished to harm her. She wondered what Imogen was up do, she decided she would go up and see her, to see if she would like to continue their memory recovering efforts. 

She stood up from the table, she noticed how much her back hurt as she did, she had been sitting there longer than she thought. She picked up her marking and vanished herself up to her room, once there she placed her marking in her black satchel ready to give back to her first year students at their next lesson. 

She then walked out of her room and over to Imogen’s. She knocked on the door, with two simple taps, it was not often that she was in a position to knock, usually people were coming to see her. 

Imogen heard the simple and efficient knock and knew it had to be Constance, no one else she knew would knock on a door like that. 

“Constance, come in,” she said, opening the door. 

Constance entered the room and realised this was the first time she was seeing non-witch Imogen’s room, she inwardly found it amusing that she had not changed that much, things were still placed in places that probably made sense to Imogen alone. 

“What do you think? I think it’s starting to feel like it’s my room,” Imogen said, noticing Constance’s eyes wander around her room. 

“Imogen I do not know if you will take this as a complement or not, but it is very you. Your style has not changed much over the years,” Constance replied, she didn’t mean to insult Imogen’s style, she was just observing that their styles were very different. 

“I think I will take it as a complement, it’s comforting to know that I haven’t changed much since you first knew me,” Imogen replied, feeling quite pleased, “so what did you come and see me for?”

“Would you like to have another session in the Potion Lab this evening?” Constance asked. 

Imogen had had a tiring day, and did not feel like straining her mind anymore than she had to, so she declined Constance’s offer and instead offered another of her own, “Not tonight Constance,” she noticed Constance about to lecture her about how important it was for them to keep trying to recover the memories, “but I do have another idea that would be just as good.”

“And what would that be?” Constance asked, sceptical of Imogen’s proposition. 

“How about we go and have a nice meal together, away from the school, and we can sit and talk about those days, maybe that will also stir up some memories in me? Since I have some of them back I think I can manage on my own to come up with some more.” 

Constance looked sceptical. 

“It will be fun, I promise, we can get dressed up and just have a good time together,” Imogen said.

“I am not sure it is necessarily my idea of ‘fun’ Imogen, but I suppose I am not altogether opposed to it, so yes, I accept your invitation. However, I am on lights-out duty this evening, so I would need to make sure the girls are asleep before going anywhere. 

“It’s a date!” Imogen said, enthusiastically. 

Constance rolled her eyes.


	7. you give me the love to live

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to post two chapters today, because chapter 6 didn't have a lot going on, and since I have the next chapter ready, I didn't want to make people wait. I have also changed the rating up to an M rating because of the events of this chapter ;) enjoy!
> 
> [](https://imgur.com/rq1SbAF)  
> (chapter image by me)

She was now satisfied that all of the girls were safely tucked up in their beds, she had done an extra round just to be sure. She always preferred to remain in the castle at night in case any of them had any ideas about getting out of bed, but she had agreed to Imogen’s idea and so she stood in front of her wardrobe wondering what she should wear. The majority of the clothing she owned were her trademark long sleeved, high-necked floor length black dresses, but she did have some long black pants and smart blouses amongst her dresses too. She contemplated which one she should choose, she normally did not place too much emphasis on appearance, much like everything else she preferred function over form. She thought, though, since this was her first proper outing with Imogen since she had been reunited with her, that she should make somewhat of a special effort. 

She ended up choosing some long black loose linen pants and a long sleeved loose black silk blouse and some smart black healed boots. The blouse had tiny red flowers scattered on it, much like one of the dresses she frequently wore. She undid the simple black dress she was currently wearing and stepped out of it, placing it back into her wardrobe. She undid her boots and placed them at the bottom with her other shoes. She did not have a mirror large enough in her room to examine her body, just one she used for her hair, she did not enjoy looking at herself undressed; too many reminders of the past. She selected the outfit she had chosen and stepped into the linen pants first, she then put on the blouse. As she did the buttons up she instinctively did them all up, so most of her neck was covered, but wondered what it would look like if she undid the first few, showing some of her neck and upper chest. _‘Imogen will probably like it better this way,’_ It was not revealing anything she wasn’t comfortable showing, so she was satisfied. She went over to her vanity and examined her hair, she decided to take it out and wear it down this evening. She took out the many pins that held it together and then said a spell to unravel the plait. She brushed it once it was cascading down her back. She then took a small amount of perfume and sprayed some around her neck, and on her wrists. She did not normally wear much perfume, but Imogen wanted effort, so she was going to give it to her. 

***  
Imogen stood in front of her mirror, dressed only in her underwear, with her hands on her hips wondering what she should wear, she had decided they would make an effort so she was going to make an effort damn it; whether Constance did or not. She hoped she would though, she really wanted to see what Constance making an effort to look nice looked like. She had brought only a few nice dresses with her here, as she did not feel like she would need them very often, she scanned through her options and picked out one she felt was suitable. The dress she had chosen was a simple black velvet dress, which ended just below her knees. It had thin straps over the shoulders and the back was bare except for two thin straps that crossed over the bottom portion of the exposed back area. She smiled as she took it off the hanger, _‘yes this will be perfect,’_ she thought. The front was loose and showed off her shoulders well. She took off her bra as she decided she would not need it, and it would ruin the look of the back if she wore one. She examined her choice of underwear, _‘something sexier maybe?’_ She considered, looking through her drawer. She picked out a black lace pair that left very little to the imagination.

Once she was dressed she selected a simple gold necklace and sprayed some of her favourite perfume. 

***  
Constance was back at Imogen’s door, she knocked on it again, “Imogen, are you ready?” 

“Yes, coming,” she heard from the other side. Imogen quickly grabbed her purse and was now ready. She opened the door and was struck by Constance standing before her, _‘wow, so she did make an effort, wow she is gorgeous,’_ she almost said the words aloud, but stopped herself at the last minute before changing her mind and saying, “Constance you look wonderful.” 

“Thank you Imogen, I must say you look very nice yourself,” Constance said, very much wanting to add that she would love to see Imogen dress like this more often, but shook the idea out of her mind before she became even more distracted. 

“Thank you, I’m pleased you like it,” Imogen replied, knowing she had yet to turn around and show Constance her back, which she was sure would drive her even more crazy. 

Constance took Imogen’s hand and vanished them outside of the castle. They were at the entrance to the village. _‘It’s certainly the best way to travel,’_ Imogen thought. 

They walked up the street over to the restaurant Imogen had selected, something subdued but elegant, as well as offering them some degree of privacy (as much as one could get in a relatively small village anyway). They took their seats at their table and were given some menus straight away. There were a good number of other people still in the restaurant so Constance didn’t feel as if they were being stared at, which she appreciated. 

They ordered their food and some red wine to go with it. 

“Did we do this in Witch Training College?” Imogen asked, sipping her wine. 

“What? ‘Go on dates’?” She asked, using the popular terminology. 

Imogen laughed, “Yes, so did we?” 

“There was not a lot of room to spend time outside of the school, free-time was strictly regulated, and was encouraged to be extra study time,” Constance explained, “but as I recall you did force me to join you one evening at a pub of all places.”

“I think I remember that, but you enjoyed yourself in the end didn’t you?” 

“It was not totally disagreeable, but as I recall I was exhausted so I don’t think it would have mattered too much where you took me,” Constance answered, taking a sip of her wine.

“Wasn’t that the night I called you Miss Hardbroom for the first time, because you told me to be quiet and go to sleep like I was your student?” Imogen asked. 

“You had a great deal of cheek back then, Imogen.” 

“You love my cheek.”

A small smile creeped onto Constance’s face, “I suppose I do, yes.” 

Their food was brought out to them soon after. Imogen had ordered pasta and Constance a soup. 

“Is there anything else you can remember Imogen?” 

“There are images that come to mind occasionally, not enough to form an entire memory though, I think I need to take more of the potion for that. Whatever or whoever caused this has probably made sure I won’t be able to remember on my own.” 

“Do you remember the day we first met? In the school’s court yard?” 

“Yes, I saw that yesterday, what of it?” 

“Did I ever tell you that I was grateful that you came up and spoke to me that day?” 

“I figured you were okay with it, you kept me around,” Imogen replied. 

“So I did,” Constance said simply, glad she had not pushed Imogen away all those years ago, “Imogen, I have to ask, it’s been on my mind since you arrived at Cackle’s,” Constance blurted out.

“What is it?” 

“How did you become a P.E teacher?” 

Imogen laughed, she sort of loved that it had been bothering her that much, “Was I not interested in sport in Witch Training College?” 

“You were active, and you did enjoy running and walking for exercise,” Constance answered, “but due to the strict dress code you were not permitted to parade around in the same exercise clothing you do now.” 

“Do you disapprove of my exercise clothing?” 

“Not particularly, but it would not be my first choice,” Constance said plainly, “it does suit you though, and I can appreciate that,” she added.

“I’ll take that as a complement,” Imogen said, not entirely sure if that’s how it was intended. 

“That is how I meant it, Imogen,” Constance reassured her. 

“That’s good to know,” Imogen answered, “and what made you want to teach potions?” She asked. 

“It has always been my preferred magical discipline, I enjoy the specific nature of brewing a potion exactly, and how different amounts or ingredients can change it entirely. There is also a lot of variety in potion making,” Constance explained. 

“Every time I see you make a potion, and hearing you talk about it now, I can see your passion for it, I admire that,” Imogen told her. She wondered then, what had she been working towards at Witch Training College, “What was I wanting to teach then, before?” 

“You were always fascinated with spells, if I recall correctly, you were quite adept at them too,” Constance answered. 

“It’s strange knowing there’s this entire part of my life that I can’t remember, and the idea that it was taken from me doesn’t help either,” Imogen said, “but spells sound interesting, well honestly, it all sounds interesting to me.” 

“You will remember, Imogen, I promise,” Constance reassured her. 

“Speaking of spells, do you remember when you first showed me your vanishing ability?” Imogen asked, “I was so in awe of you, your magic was always so impressive to me, I felt like I could never reach the same level as you, but you inspired me to keep going and stay strong.” 

Constance didn’t really know what to say to that, she was used to being complimented on her magic, but usually it was because someone would be judging her ability and she wanted to perform perfectly. Imogen saying those words to her left her with a different feeling, one which made her feel valued and loved, she wasn’t quite sure how to handle it, “Imogen,” she started, she still didn’t really know what to say, “thank you.” 

***  
When they had finished eating, and they had drunk the reminder of their wine, and Imogen suggested they take their time and walk back to the castle. She felt comfortable and safe with Constance, after all she was a powerful witch, if there were any dangers in the woods, she would be well equipped to defend them, “Imogen, instead of walking all the way, may I show you one of my favourite places to spend time in?” 

“Of course,” Imogen replied. 

“Okay, take my hand,” she said. 

Imogen took it and they vanished.

Soon after they reappeared on a balcony of one of the castle’s towers, in a section that was not apart of the school, and was for the most part not a place anyone went. The tower had a magnificent view of the surrounding forest and beyond, in the distance there was a clearing with a large lake at the centre. 

“Do you see how the moonlight reflects on the water, and how the moon lines up with the clearing?” 

“It’s beautiful Constance, I can see why you come here,” Imogen said, still taking in the scenery before her. 

They moved closer to the wall surrounding the top of the tower, and Imogen lent her arms on it, looking at the view before her, as she stood there, she felt a cool breeze passing through. Imogen felt it on her mostly bare back. Constance noticed and stood behind her, wrapping her arms around her, “Thanks,” she said, smiling. 

“Next time you should bring a coat with you,” Constance said, her body still pressed up against Imogen’s. 

Imogen turned around to face her, “But then I wouldn’t have you to warm me up,” she said, kissing her softly. 

Constance couldn’t help but let out a small moan as Imogen kissed her, she had to admit that it was true that Imogen’s choice of clothing had been driving her crazy all night, all she had been able to think about was getting it off her and taking in what was underneath. 

Constance deepened the kiss, opening her mouth slightly, letting Imogen’s tongue enter. As they kissed, Constance ran her hand up Imogen’s thigh, she had to admit there was a small part of her that was taken aback by the fact that as she ran her hand further up all she was met with was skin, eventually she did find underwear. Imogen smiled, her choice of sexier underwear had the desired effect. Constance ran her hand up and down Imogen’s backside a few times, before moving around to the front. She took her hand and rubbed where Imogen was most sensitive. Imogen couldn’t (and didn’t want to) restrain herself and let out several moans as Constance did this. It felt so good, to have her touching her like this. Constance could feel, even from the outside of Imogen’s underwear how wet she already was. She wanted to feel more of her, so she dipped her hand under the delicate fabric and ran her finger over the sensitive area, Imogen moaned, “More, please, Constance.” Constance obeyed and let a finger enter inside her. She thrust it in and out a few times before adding an extra one, Imogen, was thoroughly enjoying the sensation, “More, mmm, Constance, more.” 

Constance had an idea, she took her fingers out of Imogen, looked up at her, smiled, and lifted her dress up, and pulled her underwear down, now in a heap at her ankles. She then got down onto her knees and let her tongue do what her fingers had previously been occupied with. This sent Imogen over the edge. 

Constance stood up, and Imogen fervently kissed her. Imogen then kicked off the pair of underwear that were at her feet so she could move around more easily. She lent Constance against the wall and began to reveal the bare skin underneath her blouse. She removed Constance’s bra and took her left breast in her hand, and with ran her tongue over the hardened nipple. Constance moaned at Imogen’s motions. Imogen proceeded to undo the linen pants Constance was wearing and pulled them down revealing simple black underwear. Imogen stroked her hand up and down Constance’s centre, noticing the soft moans coming from her as she did. Deciding she needed more, she removed the underwear and ran her fingers over Constance’s wet folds, “Imogen,” was all Constance could manage. Imogen’s fingers then entered inside Constance, Imogen could feel Constance moving with her, back and forth against her fingers. Imogen kept going until Constance came.

She stood up and resumed kissing her, pressing as much of her against Constance as she could.


	8. in solitude, i know you can hear it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sort of had to adjust the canon timeline to fit with the story. I moved up Broomhead's inspection and Mildred and her friends being at Cackles as this was all happening. I do feel like in reality Imogen had been at Cackles a lot longer than is portrayed here, but using Broomhead's inspection fit too well to not do it. I have included lose events from that episode (The Inspector Calls) to make it fit a bit better. I hope you're enjoying the story, there's still more to come too <3
> 
> [](https://imgur.com/iXOILxY)  
> (chapter image by me)

* * *

She could hear Broomhead yelling at her but it was all a blur, all she could think about was Imogen standing outside the office as if in a line, waiting her turn to be the next victim. Broomhead did not normally involve Imogen in Constance’s punishments, she preferred to punish Constance knowing how much it would emotionally affect Imogen by proxy. It wasn’t just physical punishment with her, it was also emotional.

She knew why she had been pulled into this office, she and Imogen had become too comfortable with each other spending more and more time together outside of their classes, occasionally forgetting their surroundings and showing some of their affections in view of others; holding hands, smiling at each other, and very occasionally quick kisses on the cheek: all of which had gotten back to Broomhead. 

Broomhead’s voice was becoming increasingly grating, “ _Listen_ to me girl!” 

She dared not say anything, it took everything she had to look her tutor in the eyes. 

Broomhead looked directly at her pupil, “You _disgust me_ ,” her voice was low and filled with anger, “your father assured me you were a bright witch, a talented girl who was ready to be led down the _right_ path, but what I see before me is a _disgrace_. I thought you were better than this Constance, better than getting ‘attached’ to the wrong people. You are letting your foolish emotions run your life and make your choices, if I even so much as see you look at that girl again, it will be the end of both of you.”

She was too afraid to speak and merely nodded. 

“You will be separated, you will be lodging in different rooms, far away from each other, as it is clear you cannot be trusted with other girls. When you are not in class you will be supervised by me, at _all_ times. Never forget, Constance, that I make the rules here, and you _will_ obey them,” she gripped Constance’s arm tightly, her fingernails digging into her skin. Magic flowed through it causing excruciating pain to Constance. She desperately wanted to scream, but she knew Imogen would hear her if she did, so she resisted as much as she was able, “If you disobey me, girl, that is what you will feel, and I will know about it. I see everything: never forget that. Now get out,” she said, letting go of Constance’s arm. 

Constance said nothing and instinctively rubbed her arm, she noticed Broomhead’s curse had drawn blood, she pulled down her sleeve so Imogen wouldn’t see the damage. Once she was outside the office, she looked briefly at Imogen, she felt so much sorrow for the girl, she didn’t ask for this. Her whole life hadn’t been orchestrated to lead up to her being here, her father hadn’t made sure she receive ‘the right education’ to become ‘the powerful witch she was destined to be’. She didn’t deserve her, and Broomhead was out to assure that she never see her again. 

She made her way to her preferred stairwell, and sat in the darkness, tears finally being allowed to fall down her face. 

In all her time at this school she had never felt more alone. 

* * *

“Ladies,” Miss Cackle began, holding a letter in her hands, “please sit down.” Constance, Imogen, and Davina were all present and took their seats, “OFWitch has designated the school as one in need of ‘desperate help’. They are sending an inspector here tomorrow to look over things.” 

“What does that mean Miss Cackle?” 

“It means, Miss Bat, that we need to be very careful and must show only the best of this academy if we want to have any hope of continuing,” Miss Cackle explained. 

“Should we not treat this as an opportunity?” Constance asked, cheerfully, “An opportunity to show that their concerns are misplaced and show them that our standards are high?” 

“That is one way to look at it Constance,” Miss Cackle replied, “if nothing else, we will have to make some minor adjustments to how things are run and make sure to secure some of the less-than-favourable reports the school has received.” 

“Who are they sending, Miss Cackle, do we know?” Imogen asked, “We should at least know who it is we are dealing with.” 

“Yes, it’s all here in this letter, let me see,” she scanned the page, and finally came to a name, “our inspector will be a Mistress Hecketty Broomhead,” she said looking up from the letter. 

Constance nearly fell off her chair when she heard the name, “Mistress Broomhead?” She asked cautiously, desperately hoping she had misheard Miss Cackle. 

“That’s right, is there a problem, Constance?” 

“Miss Cackle, Mistress Broomhead is perhaps the most formidable, ruthless, demanding witch I have ever come into contact with.” She replied, barely able to a breath as she spoke, “What’s more Miss Cackle, is that,” she looked at Imogen, fear in her eyes, “is that she was my personal tutor at Witch Training College, and more or less taught me everything I know.”

“Both you and Imogen were taught by her, I assume?” 

“Yes Miss Cackle, you could say that,” Constance replied, still quite panic-stricken, “Miss Cackle, she mustn’t see Imogen, she mustn’t know she is here, that is of the upmost importance, even more so than keeping Mildred Hubble out of sight.” 

Imogen took Constance’s hand in hers and held it, stroking her thumb as she did, trying to calm her down. 

“Very well,” Miss Cackle said, “Davina, would you excuse us, I would like to have a word with Constance and Imogen.” 

“Yes of course Miss Cackle,” Miss Bat replied, leaving the staff-room. She daren’t think about what this must be doing to the two of them. Everyone assumed she always had her head in the clouds, but she could see very clearly what had been developing between Constance and Imogen. She only hoped that they would all come out of this inspection in one piece. 

“You ladies need to fill me in, if we’re to have any chance of passing this inspection I need to know everything,” Miss Cackle said, looking at them both intently. 

Constance looked cautiously at Imogen, she really didn’t know where to start. “I have never told anyone any of this before Miss Cackle, you must understand how difficult this is for me,” she said, turning to look at her superior. 

They spent the next half an hour filling in Miss Cackle on the finer points of Mistress Broomhead’s personality and ‘teaching style’.

“So you think Mistress Broomhead had something to do with Imogen losing her magical abilities?” Miss Cackle asked. 

“It seems to be the logical conclusion, Miss Cackle, and assuming I am correct, when she steps foot inside this school and is face to face with Imogen, we will be faced with a force the likes of which this school has never known.” 

“I have never had a reason to doubt you before Constance, so I will not doubt you now, if you believe Imogen’s safety is at stake, we will see to it that she is protected at all costs.”

* * *

“She can’t do that!” Imogen threw the book she was holding onto the floor. 

“Imogen, we don’t have a choice, I’m truly sorry,” Constance tried to comfort her, but in reality she was just as angry.

“What will she do to you? She can’t keep you locked up can she?” It didn’t take much for Imogen’s imagination to begin working overtime coming up with very real possibilities of what was going to happen to them. 

“I do not know what she will do,” Constance replied, forlorn.

Imogen forgot her anger for a moment and embraced her friend, she buried her face into her neck and tears began to flow down her face. Constance put her arms around Imogen, she didn’t know what would become of them, and that perhaps terrified her more than whatever Broomhead was going to do to her. 

* * *  
Constance was pacing, she had been for half an hour. The sound of her boots on the wooden floor was normally rhythmic and controlled, but today her footsteps were more erratic. Panic was consuming her. She tried to breathe and regain some control over herself. She stopped by the fireplace and took some deep breaths. She needed to go and find Imogen, she needed to make sure she was safe before the inspection. 

She decided she needed some fresh air and walked out of the staff-room, where she was met with their other problem: Mildred Hubble. 

“Mildred, would you mind coming with me for a moment?” She asked, placing her hand over Mildred’s shoulder, they went up to Mildred’s room. 

“What is it Miss Hardbroom?” 

“You have heard that we are being inspected this afternoon, yes?” 

“Yes Miss Hardbroom,” Mildred replied, unsure of where this was going. 

“Well, we need to hide you and Miss Drill, keep you both out of sight of the inspector, as if you don’t exist, not to put too finer point on it,” Constance explained, transparency was important here. 

“But we do exist! Why do we have to hide?” 

“Mildred, it’s for the good of the school, and trust me you’re better off being kept away from her,” Constance replied, “I wish I could be too,” she muttered to herself. 

“Why do you say that?” 

“It’s not your concern, Mildred,” She said, getting up and placing Mildred’s bats into a shoebox.

“What are you doing? You can’t take Winky, Blinky, and Nod! What are you going to do to them?” Mildred protested.

“Don’t worry, Mildred they will be perfectly safe, I am removing them as I happen to know that Mistress Broomhead despises bats. She says they cause distraction and spread diseases.” 

“But-”

“It will be fine Mildred, I promise,” Constance replied, leaving the room.

***

Concealing people was not nearly as easy as concealing objects, but Constance was determined to find a way of making this happen safely and successfully. She combed through the weathered notebook, hoping to find the spell she needed. As she turned the pages, she noticed the little extra notes scattered in its margins that she had made while a student, even the she was always striving to improve upon what they were being taught and take her magic further. Turning a few more pages she came to the spell she was after, an enchantment to not only turn a person invisible but inaudible also, wherein the target was unable to interact with any object or surface; essentially placing them temporarily (until the enchantment was reversed) into a separate dimension so they would be safe from whatever force was trying to harm them. It was dangerous magic, for it was incredibly easy to lose the target of the spell and many people had been lost this way over the years, which is why its use had been banned by the Witches Guild centuries ago, unless in dire circumstances. Constance reasoned that this was a dire enough circumstance to use this forbidden magic. She noted down the spell and its reversal also on a separate piece of paper and stowed her precious book away so no one could find it. 

***

“You can’t, it’s too dangerous,” Imogen pleaded.

“I assure you Imogen that all I am doing is protecting you both, it’s perfectly safe.”

“You and I both know that’s not true, there are a million things that could go wrong!” 

“Imogen, listen, it’s the only way, would you rather the alternative?”

Imogen knew Constance was right, she wouldn’t have even suggested using such magic unless it was absolutely necessary. She understood how desperate the situation was, at least she wouldn’t be alone, she would have Mildred for company. Not her first choice, but at least she could be sure that at least she was safe, “Fine, all right, cast your spell.” 

“Miss Drill? Are you sure?” Mildred asked hesitantly, she was still trying to wrap her mind around what Miss Hardbroom was proposing. 

Imogen looked at Mildred, “It may not make sense why, Mildred, but I trust Miss Hardbroom completely, and she is only trying to do what’s best for us, and the school.” 

Constance nodded. 

“If you say so Miss Drill,” Mildred replied, trying her best to remain calm, “It’s not going to be dark is it?” 

Constance almost smiled, Mildred was such a pure and innocent soul, she envied that about her sometimes, “No Mildred, it’s not as if I’m trapping you in an endless void. While you won’t be able to interact with anything you will still be able to see what is going on around you. Do you understand?”

“Yes Miss Hardbroom, I think so,” she replied. 

“Okay, both of you, stand over there, and I will cast the spell, once I have done so it will take a few seconds for the spell to become active, but I will remain here until I am sure it has,” Constance explained, even she was beginning to get nervous. The gravity of what she was about to do was starting to weigh her down. 

“Constance before you do, just one thing,” Imogen turned to Mildred, “Mildred would you mind giving me a moment alone with Miss Hardbroom before she says the spell?” 

Mildred felt the heaviness in the air, “Of course Miss Drill, I’ll just wait outside.” 

“What is it Imogen?” Constance asked, acutely aware of how little time they had before Broomhead arrived. 

Imogen walked over to her and took in everything she could about her beautiful face, she embraced her tightly. Constance returned the gesture. Imogen released her from her embrace and kissed her as if it was her last chance in the world to do so. Their kiss went on long enough for Mildred to wonder what Miss Drill had wanted with her potions teacher, she opened the door slowly and peered inside. The image before her was not one she expected, but she was a romantic, she wanted everyone who wished to have one to find their happy-ever-after and if Miss Drill’s was with Miss Miss Hardbroom, then she was happy for them. 

“Constance,” Imogen said softly, “I think we’re being watched.” 

“It’s all right Miss Hardbroom,” Mildred said, noting how pale her teacher had just become, “I won’t tell anyone. I’m happy for you, and now I sort of understand why you’re sending Miss Drill with me, you want to protect her too.” 

“Very astute Mildred,” Constance said, “perhaps I don’t give you enough credit. But the reasons I am sending Miss Drill with you are far beyond your understanding.” 

Comforted that she had had her moment with Constance Imogen was now confident that they were making the right choice, “We’re ready Constance,” she said, taking Mildred’s hand.


	9. if i could make a wish, even a glance would be enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [](https://imgur.com/px3svxH)  
> (chapter image by me)

Constance cast the spell, and watched as Imogen and Mildred faded from her view. She desperately hoped she had made the right decision. She stayed in the room a little longer, to make sure everything was okay, even though she really had no way of knowing if it was. 

She took a deep breath and left and made her way to Miss Cackle’s office. 

“It is done, Miss Cackle,” she said solemnly. 

“Are they safe?” 

“There is no way of knowing until we reverse the spell.” 

“Let’s hope that the spell will be enough to hide them from Broomhead. She is due here in an hour, how are the rest of the preparations going?” Miss Cackle asked, attempting to change the subject a little.

“Fenella and Griselda are securing the remaining files as we speak, with that I think we are as prepared as we can be, Miss Cackle,” Constance replied.

“Good.” 

*** 

“It’s weird isn’t it, Miss Drill?” Mildred asked, running her hand clear through the table, “It’s like we’re ghosts.”

Imogen laughed, “I thought witches didn’t believe in ghosts?” 

“You know what I mean,” Mildred replied. 

“I do,” Imogen answered, “you’re right though, it does make you feel like one.” 

“I wonder how Miss Hardbroom and Miss Cackle are going?” 

“Shall we go and see, we can still walk around can’t we?” 

“I think so, yeah, but shouldn’t we stay here until Miss Hardbroom comes to bring us back?”

“I don’t know about you Mildred, but I can’t imagine myself standing in this room until the inspection is all said and done, not knowing if everyone else is all right?” 

“Good point.”

“We just need to make sure we’re back in time for Const-for Miss Hardbroom to bring us back,” Imogen reasoned. 

Mildred noticed her teacher’s correction, “It’s okay Miss Drill, you can call her by her name, that’s who she is to you. Plus I saw you kissing her, I think out of anyone you can call her that around me.”

Imogen blushed slightly, with the more pressing issue of them not being able to interact with the world around them she had forgotten about the kissing incident earlier, “Thank you Mildred, I appreciate that. Now, shall we go and see how everyone else is doing?” 

“Yes, let’s, I suppose we can just walk through the walls?” Mildred said, putting her hand up to the stone wall, watching it disappear into it, “Extreme!” She exclaimed stepping through the wall.

 

* * *  
Constance looked around the room, her room, she supposed it was now. It seemed to her that Broomhead had shoved her in the darkest, furthest corner of the school. She half wondered why she hadn’t just thrown her in the dungeons for all eternity. She sighed, and placed her belongings on the bed. She sat down next to them, it was as she had expected: no effort had been placed on the mattress, it was worse than the one she had before. She wondered how Imogen was faring, _‘hopefully better than I am,’_ she thought, though she knew it would not be true. They were both being punished, neither of them was getting let off easily. 

Broomhead had given her a schedule she had to follow, and it consisted of either being in her room, the library, or whatever class she was supposed to be in, in addition to her one-on-one lessons. She had also made her wear a magical watch, which would ensure she was in the place she should be at any given time. She was a prompt person, and didn’t like to be late, but this was going too far. Broomhead’s obsession with saving time and using it efficiently was maddening. 

She moved her belongings onto the floor and laid down on the bed. Rest would become a precious commodity from now on, so she decided she would do her best to relax. 

* * *

Imogen sat on her bed, looking around her: this room had once been theirs, a sanctuary away from the stresses of the school, from Broomhead. now it had become a reminder of what she had lost. In every corner of the room she saw parts of Constance; she looked at the empty space that her desk had occupied, she remembered countless hours of her sitting there studying well into the night; Wide-Awake Potions scattered around her books. She looked over to where her bed used to be, not that she used it all that much, Constance wasn’t big on sleeping. She looked over to find the mostly empty bookshelf, Constance’s books took up the large majority of it, with piles of books sitting on the top shelf also. Imogen smiled at the memory of Constance trying to make them all fit, she had given up in frustration and decided that ‘the stupid bookcase’ was the wrong size, and whoever made it should have done a better job, because ‘didn’t they know that students needed a lot of books and surely this was not enough’. Sitting alone in what used to be their space, she realised how much she missed having moments like that with Constance. She wasn’t sure where they had put her, or if she ever would. 

* * *  
Imogen and Mildred made their way, passing through a few students along the way, “That is too weird!” Mildred exclaimed as a first year girl walked right through her. 

“Let’s try and avoid that, shall we?” Imogen suggested.

Mildred nodded, “Where do you think they’ll be Miss Drill?”

“The staff-room most likely,” she replied, “over this way.” 

They walked over to the staff room, which was occupied by Miss Cackle, Miss Bat, Miss Hardbroom, Fenella, and Griselda, “Everyone’s in there Miss Drill, should we join them?” 

Imogen nodded, “Yes, let’s. I want to know what they’re talking about.” 

“Are you sure everything is secure?” 

“Yes Miss Hardbroom, we double checked everything,” Fenella replied. 

“Good, let us hope it is enough,” Constance said, with that they were met with a loud knock on the castle’s doors.

“It had better be, I think she’s here,” Miss Bat said, desperately wanting to hide in the stationery cupboard. 

“Show time, ladies,” Miss Cackle said, she took a deep breath and put on her best I’m-pleased-to-see-you face, as she left the room she was face-to-face with the woman they had been preparing for.

“Miss Cackle, I presume.” 

“Yes, a pleasure to meet you, Mistress Broomhead is it?” 

“Yes.”

“I trust you had a pleasant trip here?”

“No, I did not. The directions you gave me were haphazard at best.”

“Oh, sorry to hear that.”

“I do not have time for chit-chat Miss Cackle, I am here to do a job, so I must get started immediately.” 

“Yes, of course, follow me,” Miss Cackle replied.

Mistress Broomhead quickly overtook Miss Cackle and headed straight for Miss Cackle’s office. 

“Well, I must say I am surprised to see you here Constance, ending up at a school like this, I expected better of you. I would have thought you would be teaching at a respectable establishment such as Weirdsister College. You were such a promising student, and now look at you! Here, with this pathetic bunch!” 

“How nice it is to see you again, Mistress Broomhead,” Constance replied, as if it was an automated response. She immediately felt like she was seventeen again. 

“I wish I could say the pleasure is mine, Constance, but I fail to see how that could be the case.” 

“Yes Mistress Broomhead,” Constance replied. 

“Now, where are your records kept? I assume you keep records? Even an establishment such as this surely could manage such a simple task?”

“Over here Mistress Broomhead, we have prepared them for your arrival,” Constance said, gesturing towards the table where they had laid out everything.

“I suppose this will do, now all of you may leave, I have work to do,” Constance felt like she could nearly breathe at the prospect of being able to leave the room, and started walking towards the door, “not you Constance, I am not done with you yet.” 

It could never be that easy, “Yes Mistress Broomhead,” she replied, turning around and walking back to the desk. 

***  
“Wow, I never thought I’d see someone more terrifying than Miss Hardbroom,” Mildred pointed out. 

“Miss Hardbroom," Imogen began, "Sorry, I mean Constance, isn't really that bad once you get to know her, Mildred,” Imogen replied, though she understood where she was coming from.

Mildred smiled, “It must be nice to see her that way, Miss, to look at her and not be afraid that she’ll yell at you.”

“It took some time for her to warm up to me too, Mildred, don’t feel bad. You should know though that she only wants the best for you and the other girls.” 

“I’ll try to remember that the next time she yells at me for not tying up my shoelaces,” Mildred said, trying to imagine the scenario. 

“I have to say, I agree with her on that Mildred,” Imogen said, “now let’s go into Miss Cackle’s office so we can hear what they’re saying.” 

Mildred nodded.

Imogen’s anger was now outweighing her nervousness, “Did you heard what she said?! She called us pathetic!” She went to run over to confront Broomhead herself.

“It’s no use Miss Drill, she can’t hear or see you, remember,” Mildred reasoned.

“Good point,” Imogen replied, “doesn’t mean I’m okay with what she just said though.”

“And you shouldn’t be, what an awful thing to say!” Mildred said, still listening to Broomhead’s berating, “She was Miss Hardbroom’s teacher wasn’t she?” 

Imogen looked at Mildred, “She was, yes. Mildred, I am about to tell you something that none of the other girls know about.” 

“So Miss Hardbroom had a Miss Hardbroom, wow,” Mildred answered, sort of understanding now why her fearsome Potions teacher was the way she was, “Oh, it’s not some secret about you and Miss Hardbroom is it?” Mildred asked, imagining the worst.

Imogen almost laughed, “No Mildred, nothing like that, it’s the reason Miss Hardbroom sent me here with you, why she wanted to protect me as well as you.” 

Mildred breathed a sigh of relief, she was glad it had nothing to do with Miss Hardbroom and Miss Drill’s private lives. 

“We went to school together, Constance and I, we were both taught by Mistress Broomhead,” Imogen explained. 

“But that means-”

“Yes, Mildred, it does. I used to be a witch.” 

***


	10. even as the world is shaking, the light shines through

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [](https://imgur.com/NwW8Wm8)  
> (chapter image by me)

“But how? How is that possible, Miss Drill? Why aren’t you still a witch? Does it have something to do with the Inspector? Is that why you’re here with me?” Mildred had a thousand questions, and it seemed like she was asking them all at once. Miss Drill a witch too? She did not expect to be told that when she woke up this morning, truth be told she hadn’t expected to find out her P.E teacher was in love with her Potions teacher either. She wondered what other surprises today had in store for her. 

“Calm down, Mildred, I know it’s a lot to digest,” Imogen explained, “ask me one question at a time.”

Mildred took a moment to organise her thoughts, “How is it possible?” she asked. 

“Honestly, Mildred, I don’t know, Constance has been helping me recover some of my memories so we could figure that out. I didn’t even remember being a witch until she told me I was one,” Imogen explained. 

“Is it because of the Inspector? Did she do something to you?” 

“We don’t know, maybe? Well, probably,” Imogen replied, “we hadn’t gotten that far yet, but I remember some things that make it seem like a real possibility.” 

“I didn’t even know that was possible,” Mildred exclaimed. 

“Neither did I, my first day here, when I saw Constance again, she mentioned that we were at school together and I was stunned,” Imogen explained, “it’s been quite a ride since I got here.” 

“You were at school with Miss Hardbroom?” 

“At Witch Training College,” Imogen replied. 

“Do you mind if I ask you something, Miss Drill?” 

“Go ahead, Mildred,” Imogen replied, unsure of where Mildred’s questioning would be going.

“What was she like? Miss Hardbroom I mean. Was she different or was she the same as she is now?” 

Imogen smiled, she should have seen that one coming, “She was the same person really, as far as I can remember, she was always very interested in her studies, we did have a few laughs together though. Perhaps you could say she was softer? She was always trying to protect me, she never wanted to show me the bad things that had happened to her, she was very loving and kind to me.”

“Wow, I can’t imagine Miss Hardbroom like that,” Mildred was having a hard time imagining the teacher who so frequently yelled at her as having a soft personality, or ‘having a few laughs’ as Miss Drill had put it, but she was intrigued at the possibility. 

Imogen laughed, “I guess this situation proves she hasn’t changed much, she’s still trying to protect me.”

“We will get through this Miss Drill, if you think Miss Hardbroom is still the same person, then it sounds like she will do everything she can to protect you,” Mildred said, “I’m just here because I always ruin everything.”

“You know that’s not it, Mildred.” 

“Thank you Miss Drill, I’m glad you’re here with me.”

“I’m glad you’re here too Mildred, it’s easier knowing I have a friend with me.” 

“Think of how awful it would be if you were stuck with Ethel!” Mildred said.

Imogen laughed, “I suppose you’re right, but you didn’t hear that from me, okay?”

***

Constance hadn’t moved for an hour, standing still behind Broomhead who was sitting at Miss Cackle’s desk, combing through various school records, _’This is ridiculous, I am a grown woman, a powerful witch, and I’m still afraid of my old school teacher!’_ Constance thought.

“Constance,” Mistress Broomhead began, very effectively bringing Constance out of her own thoughts, “can you explain to me why your pupils are consistently performing so poorly? I thought I taught you how to teach? Are you telling me you couldn’t even get that right?” 

“I think you’ll find, Mistress Broomhead, that Constance regularly has the best performing students at the end of term, she is an excellent teacher,” Miss Cackle chimed in before Constance could answer, walking back into her office. 

“These results say otherwise Miss Cackle, and if these are indeed the best of the bunch then I shudder to think at what the others are like! Now, something I have been meaning to ask you, Miss Cackle, I see reports here for P.E but I do not see any note as to who teaches that subject, and indeed why it is being taught at a witch academy.”

 _‘At least our efforts in concealing Imogen’s identity from the records has succeeded,’_ Miss Cackle thought, she could see Constance tensing up, “We were trialing it as a subject, in the end it was discontinued. We didn’t feel it necessary to note who taught it, since it was only for a brief time.” 

Constance stood behind Broomhead and looked hesitantly at Miss Cackle, she hoped that would be enough of an explanation. 

“I see, well, proper record keeping dictates that you keep a record of every subject and every teacher regardless of how long it was around for, this will not contribute to a favourable report Miss Cackle, and I fear this is only the beginning of the mess I will find.” 

Now it was both Miss Cackle and Constance who felt like they were at school again, Miss Cackle decided to take the initiative and rescue her deputy, “Constance could I have a word, please, outside?” 

“Of course Miss Cackle,” Constance replied, trying not to blatantly run over to Miss Cackle’s side and out the door. 

They left Broomhead alone in Miss Cackle’s office, and walked out to the far end of the courtyard.

“Miss Cackle, I would like to just take a moment to thank you for rescuing me from that horrid woman.” 

“Any time, Constance,” Miss Cackle replied, “she may not like it, and she may be examining my school under a microscope, but at the end of the day I am still Head Mistress.”

Constance nodded, for that she was grateful. 

“Now, what of Imogen and Mildred? As of the moment, Mistress Broomhead doesn’t suspect anything, but that incident just now makes me nervous,” Miss Cackle said. 

“The spell was designed to keep them hidden, Miss Cackle, and very well I should add, so I am afraid there really is no way of telling what state they are in, though I assume that, if I know Imogen, she will not have stayed in the room we put them in, and would most certainly be watching everything we have been doing.” 

“She’s good!” Mildred exclaimed, “Does that mean she knows we’re here?” 

“I don’t think so, Mildred, I think she’s just hoping we are.” 

“I wish there was a way we could show her that we are,” Mildred said. 

“So do I,” Imogen agreed. 

“Yes, I suspect as much too,” Miss Cackle replied, “I can’t imagine Imogen, or Mildred for that matter, sitting still during all of this. At least they’re safe.” 

“Let’s hope they stay that way,” Constance replied. 

* * *

Constance had memorised the layout of the school, the school rules, and what she considered to be the relevant history of the school: she felt more than ready to begin studying here. She stood tall, carrying her books and walked towards her first class. She checked her watch: she was seven minutes early. She felt being punctual was important, and felt it reflected well on her overall, surely her teachers would be impressed by that. She decided to go and sit down, assuring her place at the front of the classroom. She entered the classroom and chose her seat. She arranged her books neatly on the desk and sat confidently waiting for the class and her teacher to arrive. 

Soon enough the remainder of the class began trickling into the room. Constance watched as the seats around her slowly filled up, as she watched the students take their places she noticed that the girl who spoke to her in the courtyard was in the class too, she caught her eye and the girl walked over to her and sat beside her. 

“It’s good to see a friendly face,” the girl said, taking her place beside Constance. 

Constance looked at her as if to say, ‘why are you talking to me?’ and ‘what are you doing sitting next to me’ as if she ruined her plans for solitude. 

“What? Don’t you remember me? I’m Imogen, remember, we met in the courtyard earlier.” 

Of course Constance remembered her, how could she forget the pretty blonde girl who had actually come up to her and who had spoken to her so kindly? The fact that she chose to come and sit down next to her again was making Constance blush slightly, she really hoped it wasn’t obvious, and that Imogen wouldn’t notice, “I remember you,” she said. 

Imogen, who did in fact notice Constance’s pink cheeks, smiled and replied, “Well then, do you mind if I sit next to you? I don’t know anyone else, so I was hoping we could be friends?” 

Constance felt both like she had just asked the girl she fancied to dance with her (though to be perfectly clear: she did not dance, and would never ask someone to dance with her, it was the first metaphor that came to mind), and extremely glad that it had been Imogen of all people who sat next to her, “I-yes, we can be friends,” she managed to say, trying her very best to smile politely at Imogen and not make herself look even more stupid than she already had. 

“Excellent,” Imogen replied, smiling. 

Constance felt like she was in a dream: the pretty girl wanted to be friends with her? Constance Hardbroom: the girl who people ran away from, and avoided like the plague, was going to be friends with the pretty girl? However unbelievable it was, she was just glad to have a friend. 

* * *

“They’ve been in there for a while, should we go in?” Imogen asked, she was starting to get impatient. They had left the staff-room when Miss Cackle had so they could have a moment to talk about what they’d seen, but it had been long enough (for Imogen anyway). 

Mildred nodded, she was still getting used to the fact that no one else could see or hear them. She followed Miss Drill into the room, observing the scene before her: Mistress Broomhead was still sat at Miss Cackle’s desk, muttering to herself about how terrible the students of Cackle’s Academy were performing, and something about its terrible standards for teachers. Soon enough, she saw Miss Cackle and Miss Hardbroom come back into the office. 

“Miss Cackle,” Mistress Broomhead said, raising her head to look up at the Head Mistress, “I was just about to come and find you, I feel the standards of this school are severely lacking, I would like to observe some of the classes to see how they are run. You best hope that they it is merely your record keeping that is lacklustre and that it doesn’t extend to the classroom.” 

Miss Cackle didn’t have much of a chance to respond before Mistress Broomhead stood up and walked out of the room, “Constance, if you prefer, I can escort her?” 

“No, Miss Cackle, it’s fine, she expects me to be there, I’ll go,” Constance sighed, in many ways she still felt like the younger version of herself, firmly held under the grip of Mistress Broomhead. She walked out of the office and followed Broomhead.

Imogen and Mildred had kept quiet during the whole exchange, despite knowing that no one could hear or see them, they still felt as if they would be intruding if they had said anything to each other. 

“Can you believe how she talks to her? I feel so sorry for her,” Mildred said, now more than ever she could see why Miss Hardbroom was the way she was. 

“Sadly, Mildred, she treated everyone like that, though I do think Constance got the worst of it,” Imogen said. 

“I wish we could help her somehow,” Mildred said, not having any clue as to how that would be possible. 

“So do I,” Imogen replied, desperately wishing that she hadn’t agreed to Constance’s idea of the concealing spell, she wanted to confront Broomhead herself. Though she did realise she wouldn’t stand a chance against her, since she was no longer a witch. She felt with all times Constance had protected her that it was her turn to protect Constance, “at least Miss Cackle is there with her.” 

“Yes, I suppose,” Mildred agreed. 

***  
“Where is Mildred anyway?” Enid asked, she couldn’t recall seeing her all day, and was starting to get worried. 

“Miss Cackle said something about keeping her out of the Inspector’s way,” Maud answered, she too was worried for her friend, she knew all too well what Mildred was like and hoped she hadn’t gotten herself into any trouble. 

“Come to think of it, where’s Miss Drill? Aren’t we supposed to have P.E after this?” 

“I haven’t a clue,” Maud replied, “I just wish we were with them, instead of being here, being judged by the Inspector.” 

“After class I’m going to ask Miss Hardbroom, I have to know,” Enid decided.

“Are you crazy, you’re going to ask HB? She’s probably the one responsible for whatever’s happened to Mildred and Miss Drill!” Maud said, thoroughly disapproving of her friend’s plan. 

“Don’t you want to know what’s happened to them?” 

“Of course I do,” Maud answered, “I’m just saying HB doesn’t seem like the best choice, that’s all.” 

“If anyone’s going to know, it’s her,” Enid reasoned, she could see Maud still wasn’t convinced, but she’d made up her mind. 

Their class ended, after what had felt like an eternity, what with the Inspector watching their every move. Enid took her time putting her books in her bag, so she could make sure none of the other girls had a chance to stop her from going up to Miss Hardbroom. She walked up to the front of the room, ignoring the Inspector, asked, “Miss Hardbroom?”

“Yes, Enid?” 

“May I have a quick word?” She glanced at Broomhead, “Alone?” 

“Constance, I will meet you back in Miss Cackle’s office, as I suspected we have much to discuss,” Broomhead replied, leaving the room. 

Constance was grateful for Enid’s interruption, “What is it Enid?” 

“Miss, I was just wondering, what’s happened to Mildred and Miss Drill? I haven’t seen either of them all day.” 

Constance sighed, she should have anticipated this, of course Mildred’s friends would notice their friend not being around, “We have had to, take certain precautions while the Inspector is here,” she answered. 

“What does that mean?” Enid asked her voice slightly raised, “What have you done to Mildred?” 

“Enid, quiet, keep your voice down, I think it’s best that we have this chat elsewhere,” she said, “let’s go for a walk shall we?” 

Enid was doubly glad she had chosen to ask Miss Hardbroom directly about this, and eagerly followed her out of the classroom, clearly what was happening here was a lot more complicated that she had first thought.


	11. these pieces of me you still hold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [](https://imgur.com/PkeX5qc)  
> (chapter image by me)

Constance led Enid outside of the castle and into the courtyard, she considered explaining everything to her there but reasoned that she would still likely be observed by Broomhead through the window, so she instructed Enid to follow her just outside the school. 

She sat on the wooden bench outside the gate, Enid was getting impatient, “Miss, why did you bring me all the way out here?”

“We cannot risk being overhead,” Constance replied, “now sit, and I shall explain.”

Enid sat and looked up at her teacher, eagerly wanting to know what was going on. 

“Firstly I want to assure you that no harm has come to Mildred and Miss Drill, they are perfectly safe.”

“Where are they?” 

“They are still in the castle.”

“Where in the castle?”

“I cannot be sure. I am sure they would have wandered off, against my instructions.”

Miss Hardbroom’s words were not making the situation any clearer for Enid, “What do you mean you can’t be sure?” She asked. 

“We, well, I, cast a concealing spell to keep them hidden from the Inspector.”

“A concealing spell? But Miss, isn’t that, you know,” she lowered her voice as if saying it too loudly would get them into trouble, “against the Witch’s Code?” 

“In a manner of speaking, yes, however we all agreed that in this particular situation its use could be justified.” 

“If you don’t know where they are how will you be able to get them back?” 

“They won’t have wandered far, Enid, if I know Mildred Hubble, even if she is under the effects of a concealing spell, she will still manage to find a way to get caught up in whatever trouble happens to be about, and I doubt Miss Drill would be far from her.” 

Enid agreed with her on that, she certainly couldn’t imagine heading Miss Hardbroom’s warnings and not know what was happening around her if she were in the same situation, as she considered Miss Hardbroom’s words, a thought entered her mind, “There’s one thing I don’t understand,” she said. 

“What is that Enid?” 

“Why is Miss Drill with her? If all you were wanting to do is to keep Mildred out of the Inspector’s way, why did you conceal Miss Drill too?” 

“The situation is complicated, Enid. I can see you understand why we felt it best to conceal Mildred from Mistress Broomhead, and that is as much as you need to know, rest assured we will do everything we can do ensure they remain safe and we will do everything we can to bring them back safely.”

“But Miss-”

“I do not feel I need to explain the situation further, Enid. Now go and tell your friends not to worry and that Miss Hardbroom said Mildred is fine and is managing the situation.” 

Enid sighed, she figured she was pushing her luck trying to get more information out of HB, as she walked away she turned back to her teacher and said, “Thanks Miss Hardbroom.”

“For what Enid?”

“For telling me what was going on, you really didn’t have to, and I appreciate that you were open with me about it,” Enid said, anyone else would not have believed her, but as she finished she could’ve sworn that she saw a slight smile on Miss Hardbroom’s face. 

***

Hecketty Broomhead was no fool, she could recognise a concealing spell with her eyes closed, the question was how could she prove it. There were too many holes in the school’s records, she couldn’t fathom how a school (even one as hopeless as this one) would be able to function without a basic record keeping system. Yes, magic was at work here, she could feel it. The solution, she decided, laid in the fragmented P.E reports. This mysterious P.E teacher was the key to unravelling the mystery, and she did not like mysteries. Constance was occupied with that Nightshade girl, but she would need to confront her about this, she knew such powerful magic could only have been practiced by someone as accomplished as Constance Hardbroom. Even now she has still found a way to meddle in Hecketty’s plans. 

***

“So, did you find anything out?” Maud whispered. 

“Loads, you’ll never guess what they did to Mildred and Miss Drill,” Enid replied, also in a whisper. They had come up to her room to make sure they wouldn’t be overheard. 

“What is it? Spill it, Enid,” Maud said, even she was getting impatient. 

“They used a concealing spell on them,” Enid replied, as if she had just announced the hottest gossip of the term. 

“A what now?” Jadu chimed in. 

“A concealing spell, it’s really dangerous advanced magic,” Maud explained, “but I thought it was forbidden?” She asked. 

“HB said they had to ‘take precautions’,” Enid said, imitating her teacher’s tone, “and that they felt ‘its use was justified’ in this case.” 

“What is going on?” Maud asked, not to anyone in particular. 

“Something dangerous, that’s for sure, if they’ve had to use a spell like that,” Ruby replied. 

“Is Millie okay, Enid? Did HB say?” Maud asked. 

“She said Millie and Miss Drill were safe, but how can she be sure?” Enid said, hoping Miss Hardbroom was right. 

“Did she say why she sent Miss Drill as well,” Jadu asked, it made sense to her why they would want to hide Mildred, but one of their teachers? It didn’t make sense to her. 

“I asked her, but she wouldn’t tell me,” Enid told her, “clearly there is something else going on that the teachers don’t want us to know about.” 

The other three nodded in agreement. 

***  
“Ah, Constance, good, I was looking for you,” she said, confronting her former student. 

“I am here now, what do you want?” Constance asked. 

“Constance, I trained you, formed you one could say. I know when you are hiding something from me. Remember what I told you all those years ago: I see everything.”

Constance was beginning to tire of Broomhead’s speeches, “If you have something to say to me Mistress Broomhead: say it.”

“Very well,” Broomhead replied, “you’re hiding something from me, I know it, and don’t go blaming it on Miss Cackle or any of the other teachers, I know it was you Constance. You are the only witch powerful enough to have pulled this off.” 

Constance was very skilled at hiding her reactions to people’s accusations, in fact, the very person accusing her was the reason she had developed such a skill, she looked directly at Broomhead and plainly answered, giving her nothing to work with, “Pulled what off, Mistress Broomhead? I do not know what you’re talking about.” 

“Don’t play games with me Constance,” Broomhead reached for Constance’s arm, and gripped it tightly, “have you forgotten what happens when you disobey me, girl?” she said, calmly. 

Mildred would definitely have knocked over the table she was standing in front of if she was able to physically interact with it, she looked to the teacher standing next to her, who’s face was filled with the same amount of shock and anger. Neither of them dared to say anything, for fear that somehow Broomhead would discover that they were in the room at a time like this. 

Constance didn’t flinch, “You’ve broken me enough, do you really think it’s possible to break me further?” 

Broomhead had a wicked grin on her face, “There’s always room for more discipline Constance, don’t you know that?” She tightened her grip on the younger woman’s arm and a surge of magic flowed through it. 

Constance still didn’t flinch. It would take more than that to get a reaction out of her, thanks to Broomhead she had developed a very high pain tolerance. 

Mildred’s mouth was practically on the floor at this point, “She can’t do that! What is she doing to her?!” 

Imogen restrained her, mostly out of instinct, despite knowing that it wouldn’t matter, since they couldn’t interact with anything anyway. 

“How can you just stand there Miss Drill? Don’t you see what she’s doing to her?!”

Broomhead added her other hand to Constance’s arm and sent another surge of magic through it, her fingernails digging into her skin. 

Constance’s pain tolerance was being tested, even she was starting to feel the effects of Broomhead’s torture. She refused to let it show though, she would never give her the satisfaction. 

“She’s hurting her Miss Drill!” 

“She can handle it, Mildred, it’s not the first time Mistress Broomhead has done this to her,” Imogen explained she was all emotion at this point, “you must know it’s not easy for me either, watching that wretched creature harm the woman I love, but I know Constance, she’s strong, she can handle it.” 

“Tell me Constance, what were you doing with a concealing spell?” 

Both Mildred and Imogen’s faces instantly lost all their colour. 

“A what?” 

“It is how you have hidden information from me is it not? And what of the mysterious missing teacher and student I’ve been hearing so much about?” 

Constance cursed under her breath, Maud and Enid’s conversation in class, of course. 

“Tell me Constance, what did you hope to accomplish? Did you really think it would matter? You must have know that this decrepit school was never going to pass, I fail to see how concealing school records and hiding a teacher and a student would have changed anything?” 

Constance refused to show any reaction, but she was nearly at her limit.

“Answer me, girl!” Broomhead implored, Constance’s lack of a reaction was beginning to annoy her. 

“Did you expect any less from me, Mistress Broomhead? I know there’s a part of you that’s impressed by the prospect of one of your former student’s being able to perform such advanced magic. And one you personally tutored as well, surely you’re more proud than you ever have been?” 

“I can be both impressed and extremely irritated, Constance,” Broomhead replied. 

It was at this point that Miss Cackle came back to her office, “Remove your hand, immediately.” 

Broomhead was struck by Miss Cackle’s authoritative tone, she always assumed the woman had no backbone. She removed her hand off Constance’s arm and faced the Head Mistress. 

“Now, I admit it, we have been concealing one or two things from you, but it is hardly reason enough to harm one of my teachers,” Miss Cackle said, looking over to Constance who was rubbing her arm. 

Broomhead decided to take matters into her own hands, Miss Cackle may have been able to stop her from harming Constance (for the moment), but she couldn’t stop her undoing the concealing spell. 

Constance turned quickly, realising when it was too late that Broomhead was uttering the reversal spell, she tried to stop her but Broomhead flicked her arm and Constance was flung clear across the room. 

Soon enough, Imogen and Mildred appeared before their eyes. 

“ _You!_ ” Broomhead yelled, looking directly at Imogen, “Well well, Constance, I see you haven’t changed one bit. Still trying to protect your little _girlfriend_ , are you? Well, we’ll see how well you can protect her now!” She shot a bright blue bolt of magic from her fingers, slamming Imogen against the wall.


	12. i chase after your shadow; i run as though i’m fleeing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally a bit shorter, but I'm writing the next one as we speak and with the extra stuff that I added into this chapter it was already over 3,000 words so I went back and added some more from the next chapter to this one. xD Originally, if you're curious it ended at "They were at a stand still" so you can thank the next chapter for being so long for less of a cliff-hanger ending xD
> 
> [](https://imgur.com/x3NSNj2)  
> (chapter image by me)

Injured though she was, Constance still found energy to yell at Broomhead, “ _No!_ Not again you filthy creature!” She shot a golden bolt of magic from her fingertips and it hit Broomhead directly, slamming her against the wall. She knew her actions would only halt the attack temporarily, so she took full advantage of the time she had and turned her attention immediately to Imogen, as she struggled to make her way over to her, Broomhead noticed and sent a bolt of magic right back at her, slamming her against the table. 

Imogen’s body ached all over, and now that she had just been given a marvellous headache courtesy of Mistress Broomhead, she desperately wanted to help, but she knew that would do more harm than good, she had no power to assist Constance, all she could do was watch the incredible display of magic before her eyes, and stay out of the crossfire. 

In the next few moments, Imogen began to understand the cliché of a few seconds of time seeming like they were happening in slow-motion. All she could see were sparks of magic flying in front of her face and then nothing. They were gone: Broomhead and Constance. 

In a panic Imogen stood up quickly, forgetting she was injured, she couldn’t find the words to express how she felt, all she could manage was, “Amelia, what just-, how-?”

Miss Cackle, who was equally stunned, replied with a determination rarely heard in her voice, “I do not know, but trust me Imogen I am going to find out.” 

“How? They vanished, there’s no way to track them is there?” Imogen was slowly regaining her ability to think clearly.

“While it is difficult, it is not impossible, they can’t have gone far, both of them are injured and it means that Mistress Broomhead’s magic will not be as powerful while she is in this state, and moving them like she did would have drained her further. It was a risky thing to do, she must be desperate.” 

“I fail to see how it’s possible Miss Cackle. Is there some kind of spell we can do? Anything?” 

“Miss Cackle, sorry, it may be kind of a silly idea, and I don’t know if it will even work, but last week I was reading about the methods witches used to use to try and find things or people,” Mildred suggested, knowing her suggestion was a long-shot and probably wouldn’t work, but she could see how desperate everyone was and no one else had managed to come up with anything useful.

“What is it Mildred?” Miss Cackle asked. 

“Well, Miss Hardbroom has a magic mirror doesn’t she? Couldn’t we use it to scry for her?” Mildred said, hesitantly.

“Scrying?” Miss Cackle began, surprised by Mildred’s unique suggestion, “It’s been a long time since I’ve heard anyone suggest that, I’m not even sure if I’ve ever actually done it before,” she said.

“I know no one does it anymore, but it wouldn’t hurt to try,” Mildred replied.

“Hi, excuse me, remember me? The non-witch, sorry to be impatient here, but what are you talking about?!” It irritated Imogen when witches talked about something clearly obvious to them but to her sounded like a foreign language she didn’t understand. 

“Scrying is an ancient practice amongst witches, used to locate someone who is missing, or to help one look for answers to something. It has various methods, the oldest of which being to interpret the smoke which emanates from a fire. More commonly it is done by the use of crystals or mirrors to find the answer you’re searching for,” Miss Cackle explained, “no one really uses it anymore since it’s fairly unreliable and there are usually far more effective methods available, however in this case perhaps the more simple methods would be more appropriate, as there is a lot of magical interference from the confrontation earlier, and the one which I can feel still happening now.” 

“So are you saying we can find them?” Imogen asked.

“We don’t know if it will work, but given this mirror belongs to Constance, there is a good chance it will. She would not keep a faulty or substandard tool in her possession after all,” Miss Cackle replied, going over to the panel behind which Constance kept her mirror. She took the necessary precautions and was able to open the panel. She lifted the mirror out and placed it on the table, “Imogen I think it would be best if you tried first, you are the most emotionally connected to Constance, and indeed to Mistress Broomhead, as soon as you see something start describing it and hopefully it will lead us to them.” 

Imogen nodded and stepped in front of the mirror, “What do I do?” She asked.

“Focus your mind only on Constance, remember as much about her as you are able, try to visualise every detail you can,” Miss Cackle explained. 

“Will it work even though I’m not a witch?” 

“You were once a witch Imogen, the necessary magic will still be somewhere inside you, your magic may have been taken from you, but trace amounts will remain, besides your connection to Constance is the strongest among us, you are the best chance we have to find her, now concentrate.” 

Imogen focused on the mirror, and thought only of Constance. 

***

The forest was alight with magic, though both were injured they were still able to counter each other’s attacks, neither of them would give up easily. Few words were spoke as the dual continued, every effort was concentrated on conjuring their magic. Constance hurled a binding spell at Broomhead, hoping to stop her from running away, however as the magic flew through the air, it was countered. The increase of magical energy being generated by the two witches could be felt in the air, and if they kept going it would multiply until it would be impossible to contain. Constance was conscious of this, but she was more compelled by the overwhelming need to stop Broomhead. 

 

***

Imogen was doing her best to concentrate, but even she could feel a change in the air, the magic being conjured by Constance and Broomhead was increasing in power and it worried her. Re-focusing her thoughts on locating Constance, she looked purposefully into the magic mirror before her and slowly images began to appear, “Miss Cackle! I think it’s working,” she exclaimed, not wanting to take her eyes off the mirror for fear it would break the connection. 

“What do you see?” Miss Cackle asked, deciding to contain her surprise that such an unreliable method of seeing magical energy was actually working. 

“It’s not clear, mostly flashes of magic,” Imogen concentrated so she could more easily interpret the images before her, it took a few moments before she recognised parts of the images enough to know where they were, “I know where they are,” she said, rushing out of her chair and running out of Miss Cackle’s office, through the school’s corridors and out to the courtyard. 

“Imogen!” Miss Cackle called, running after her. 

“I have to find her!” Imogen exclaimed. 

“And how do you plan on doing that in your state? You can’t fly there, so what were you going to do, run?” Miss Cackle spoke to her as if she were disciplining a student, while also catching her breath, running was not her forte. 

“I can’t just stand here and do nothing!” Imogen pleaded, “I have to go after her.” 

“I will go with you, on a broomstick, that way we will have a chance of getting there quickly,” Miss Cackle told her. 

“Fine,” Imogen said, “we haven’t got time to waste, let’s go, quickly!” 

Miss Cackle took Imogen by the arm and they ran over to the broomshed, she grabbed her broomstick and ordered it to hover, “Sit behind me and hold on tight, as you said, we don’t have much time, so we need to hurry, and it’s probably going to be dangerous with two of us going this fast, do you understand Imogen?” 

Imogen nodded and got on the broomstick behind Miss Cackle, “Let’s go, then, what are you waiting for?” 

With that Miss Cackle ordered the broom to fly. 

They rose quickly, Imogen understood what she had meant not, it was slightly disorienting and made her feel a little dizzy, but she didn’t care. All she wanted to was to get to Constance as fast as possible. 

From the air it was easy to see where the two witches were, the forest glowed with magical light. Navigating the skies whilst there was so much magical energy being generated was not as easy task, Miss Cackle had to constantly stabilise her broomstick. She lowered them down just outside of the most concentrated area of magic. 

Imogen practically leapt off the broom once they were close enough to the ground, and ran as fast as her aching body could take her. Miss Cackle tried to protest and follow after her, but even injured Imogen was easily able to out-run her. 

When she reached the clearing where Constance and Broomhead were, the light from their magic was blinding, and she couldn’t see either of them clearly enough to tell who they were. 

She didn’t know what she’d hoped to accomplish, it wasn’t like she could do anything to defend herself or Constance. As she stood there Miss Cackle finally caught up to her, she looked straight at her and said, “You shouldn’t have done that.” 

Imogen didn’t care, she was being sustained only by adrenaline at this point. 

Miss Cackle knew if she added more magic to this already precarious situation it would only do more harm. 

They were at a stand still.

Constance knew if this battle continued, the Foster’s effect would likely destroy them all, but she couldn’t let Broomhead win. The magical energy was building, and the storm it caused was growing more powerful, “This needs to stop!” She cried. 

“This is _your_ doing Constance, had you not been so useless we would not be here now!” 

“We are here because of _you_ , because of what you did to Imogen! You destroyed what we had, what we could have been!” Constance yelled, casting another bolt from her fingers. 

“She is _meaningless!_ And so are you!” Broomhead’s words did little damage to Constance, she was numb to them at this point. The scars she had inflicted when she was younger burned as Broomhead’s spell flew towards her. The close proximity and the intensity of magic between the two witches was exacerbating the pain, making it feel like she was engulfed in flames. 

Constance heard movement in the trees, and turned suddenly, confirming that they were not alone. She knew it had to be Amelia and Imogen. She knew they would come looking for her, however what they could do to help her, she did not know.

Imogen couldn’t look away from the scene in front of her, she had to work hard to resist the urge to run in there and try and stop them, “We have to do something! We can’t just stand here,” Imogen turned to Miss Cackle hoping she had come up with a plan on how to stop it. 

“If we try and interfere we would risk making things worse, their magic has to go somewhere so even if we dragged one of them away from the battle, it would do little good,” Miss Cackle’s outlook while realistic was not overly positive, and Imogen knew she was right, but it didn’t mean that she had to like it. 

“Can we channel it somewhere?” Imogen asked, trying to at least get a conversation going, which was making her feel like she actually was contributing to saving Constance. 

“The only thing I can think of is to channel it into the sky, and hopefully overload it so it dissipates,” Miss Cackle replied. 

“Is that safe? Wouldn’t that just create a massive electrical storm? What if it builds and doesn’t overload itself?” Imogen didn’t understand the finer points of the magical world but it seemed to her that Miss Cackle’s idea was a pretty desperate one.


	13. yes, with a message from my heart; clutching a faded photograph

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [](https://imgur.com/cXl2SH9)  
> (chapter image by me)

Mildred raced out of Miss Cackle’s office. She didn’t fully understand what was happening, but she knew they needed to do something. More than Miss Hardbroom or Miss Drill or Miss Cackle or the Inspector, everyone’s lives were at risk now. She had seen first hand the damage of the Foster’s effect, and that was only from students’ magic, she couldn’t fathom how much worse it would be when caused by two of the most powerful witches she’d ever known. 

She ran to the library and began searching as many books as she could, there had to be something in one of them that they could use. Then it occurred to her, she was probably looking in the wrong place, what she was needing would be dangerous magic and wouldn’t be kept in a school library. She rushed out to find the others, more specifically: Fenella and Griselda. 

***

“Does anyone actually know what’s going on? Where are all the teachers, and why is there a massive storm outside?” Jadu asked, hoping someone had an answer.

Before anyone could reply, Mildred came bursting through the doors. 

“Millie!” Maud called, “You’re okay!” She ran over and hugged her friend. 

Mildred was glad to see her friends again, and was glad to actually be able to interact with them, but she knew time was precious so she cut straight to the chase, “The Inspector and Miss Hardbroom were fighting in Miss Cackle’s office, one of them, I’m not sure which one, vanished them out of the castle. Miss Drill and Miss Cackle went to chase after them, they were in such a hurry I didn’t really see which way they went, though it’s pretty clear by the storm where they are now,” Mildred spoke quickly and with purpose, she needed to catch her friends up as fast as she could.

“What do you mean? Why were they fighting?” Maud asked

“I would love to explain everything but we really don’t have much time Maud, the Foster’s effect is making things a lot more dangerous. Does anyone know where Fennie and Gris are?” 

“I think they were in the Potion Lab,” Ruby said. 

“We need to find them, come on,” Mildred said, running to the door. 

Maud, Enid, Jadu, and Ruby, all raced after Mildred to the Potion Lab, where Ruby had seen Fenella and Griselda. 

“Mildred! Why the rush? What’s going on? Also, where have you been all day?” Fenella asked. 

“I need your help, you know that big old dangerous book of spells you told me about, where is it? Because we need it.” 

“Yeah, what for?” Griselda asked, intrigued. 

“The storm outside, it’s the Foster’s effect, caused by the battle between Miss Hardbroom and the school Inspector,” Mildred didn’t have time for the long explanation. 

Fenella and Griselda looked at each other, and then back at Mildred, “The what now? Why are they fighting?” They said in unison. 

Mildred sighed, she was not going to get out of this without explaining everything. Again. 

***

“So let me see if I’ve got this right, that Inspector was HB’s teacher at Witch Training College and also Miss Drill was there, and she used to be a witch? And now the Inspector is mad at HB and is trying to kill her? And to protect you and Miss Drill HB hid you with a concealment spell? Did I miss anything?”

“That about covers it,” Enid said, “Miss Hardbroom told me they had to protect Millie and Drill while the Inspector was here, never got it out of her why Miss Drill had to be there too though, probably to supervise Millie.”

“There’s a little more to it than that, but basically what Enid said is true,” Mildred explained, “the real problem now is that Miss Hardbroom and the Inspector are out fighting in the forest, and by doing so creating a massive storm because of the Foster’s effect, and we have to stop it.” 

“And Miss Cackle and Miss Drill…?” 

“They flew off on Miss Cackle’s broomstick, probably to go find them,” Mildred replied. 

“So you’re hoping there’s a spell in that book that can save them?” Fenella asked. 

“Yes, do you know where it is, and if it can help us?” 

“It might be able to, but I heard HB has a private book she carries with spells she’s made or really powerful ones she’s learnt,” Griselda said, “and I think I know where she keeps it.” 

“Are we sure that’s a good idea?” Maud asked, “Using one of HB’s spells? We’re not nearly as powerful as she is, how do we even know it will work?” 

“We don’t but we have to try,” Fenella said, “plus, if we all say it together it will amplify the power of the spell and that should do it, between all of us? I mean there’s what, seven of us?” 

“Where’s the book?” Mildred asked. 

“See now, here’s the thing, HB carries it with her, so if it’s not in Miss Cackle’s office, it’s probably in her bedroom,” Griselda explained. 

“What? Go into HB’s bedroom! You must be mad! Surely the place’ll be locked up tight, or worse still, have some kind of alarm,” Enid exclaimed. 

“I don’t like it either, Enid, but if we’re going to help them we need to find that book. Surely even HB herself would understand given what’s at stake?” Griselda replied. 

“Come to think of it, you know those keys HB wears all the time, I’m pretty sure they were zapped off her during the fight in Miss Cackle’s office earlier,” Mildred said. 

“It’s worth a shot,” Fenella agreed, “let’s go check if they’re in Miss Cackle’s office.” 

***

The girls arrived at Miss Cackle’s office, to be met with what looked like a bomb crater, books were everywhere, shelves and tables broken, it was clear a lot of damage had been done during the battle earlier.

“Come on then, let’s see if we can find the keys, and if not surely Miss Cackle would have some in here too,” Mildred suggested, looking under a pile of books.

Everyone began searching the office, in hopes of finding the keys. Eventually, Enid spoke up and declared she thought she found them, “Are these the ones? They look scary and intimidating, surely these are her keys?” 

Mildred climbed over the upturned table to get over to Enid, she took the keys from Enid and looked closely at them, “These seem like the ones, let’s go up to Miss Hardbroom’s room and try the keys out.” 

***

“I feel so powerful, with these keys, like we could go anywhere we wanted to in the whole school!” Enid declared. 

“Enid now’s really not the time to be thinking about taking over the school,” Griselda said. 

“I’m not suggesting we take it over, I’m just saying, think of all the places we could go!” She replied, excitedly. 

They walked up the corridor and eventually found the room with “Constance Hardbroom: Deputy Head Mistress” written on the plaque affixed to the door. 

“It’s weird isn’t it, what we’re about to do, going into our teacher’s bedroom,” Maud said, “I mean I know it’s HB and all, but I feel bad about invading her privacy like this.”

“It’s not like we have a choice, Maud. Just look outside, and you’ll see why we need to do this, that storm is growing and if we don’t stop it, it won’t end and we’ll all be doomed,” Enid said.

“Bit over-dramatic, but she’s right, we need to do this,” Fenella replied, “I know it feels wrong, but if we want to have a chance at stopping the Foster’s effect, we need HB’s book.” 

“If we survive this, surely she will kill us for having been in her room,” Maud said. 

“Ah-ha!” Mildred exclaimed, “Got it!” She smiled, and opened the door slowly. She did agree with Maud, it did feel like they were invading HB’s privacy, “I think it should just be me who goes in, and probably either Fennie or Gris, since they know what they’re looking for,” she suggested. 

Fenella and Griselda looked at each other, “She’s right,” Fenella said, “if you’re okay Gris, I’ll go with Mildred?” 

“Fine with me, take this candle and be quick, and make sure you get the book,” she said, handing the candle to her friend. 

Fenella nodded, “Ready Millie?” 

Mildred nodded and followed her in, closing the door behind them so the others (specifically Enid) wouldn’t snoop. Mildred studied the room, it was pretty much as she expected it to be: simple and functional. While Fenella searched the bookcase, Mildred went over to the desk. There were papers and books scattered on it, in not an overly messy and unorganised way, but messy and unorganised compared to what Mildred expected from Miss Hardbroom, it comforted her to know that even her fearsome Potions teacher sometimes had a messy desk. She picked up some of the books and looked through them, they were mostly books on potions and potion ingredients, as she moved one of the small piles of books out of the way, it revealed a framed photograph, which sat at the top of the desk. In the photograph was a young Miss Hardbroom, looking very content with her arm around a young girl who appeared to be Miss Drill. 

Fenella noticed Mildred’s pause and she stood up from looking at the bookcase, “What have you found? Did you find the book? She asked, walking over to Mildred. 

Mildred thought about trying to conceal the photograph, but she reasoned that they had both already intruded on Miss Hardbroom’s personal life by coming in to her room, so telling Fenella about the photograph would not exactly make it any worse, “It’s a photo of Miss Hardbroom and Miss Drill, when they were younger,” Mildred said, handing the frame to Fenella. 

Fenella glanced at the photo inside, “She looks happy, shame we don’t get to see her like that,” she said. 

“I know, I wonder what she would be like,” Mildred added. 

“You never know, if we stop the Inspector, we may find out,” Fenella said, handing the photo back to Mildred. 

“I don’t know if I’d prefer happy-and-in-love HB or strict and scary HB,” Mildred said, going to put the frame back in its place. 

“Wait, what did you just say?” Fenella said, snatching the photo back from Mildred, “Did you just say, ‘happy-and- _in-love_ HB’” She emphasised ‘in love’ to make sure she heard her properly. 

Mildred nodded. 

“In-love? With who? Not Miss-Drill?!” Fenella exclaimed, taking the photo from Mildred, “No way! You’re right, look at how she’s looking at her, totally smitten!”

“I know it’s weird right? To imagine HB looking at someone like that, in such a soft and kind way.” 

“Yeah, really weird. She must still feel that way, mustn’t she? I mean thinking about it it makes sense now why she made Miss Drill go with you when she did the concealment spell, and why Miss Drill was so determined to chase after her,” Fenella said, handing the photo back to Mildred. 

Mildred thought about the kiss she had witnessed when Miss Hardbroom first cast the concealment spell, she felt like was a life-time ago, so much had happened since then. Though she couldn’t say that she liked Miss Hardbroom as such, she was starting to understand her more and really she did want her to be happy, she hoped she would get the chance, “We better get a move on and try and find this book then.”

Fenella walked over to the wardrobe at the back of the room, “Should we?” She asked, looking on their teacher’s desk and finding and old photograph was one thing, but to look through her clothes? She felt uneasy about it. Knowing that if Miss Hardbroom knew, she would surely put them in detention for the rest of their lives, if they were lucky and weren’t immediately expelled. 

“I don’t know, it feels wrong, but we can’t just give up, we need that book, and knowing HB she would hide it somewhere safe, where she figures no one would look, right?” Mildred reasoned, trying to justify what they were considering doing. 

“You’re right,” Fenella replied, slowly opening the doors revealing the mass of black dresses, “pretty much what I expected,” she said, looking at Mildred. 

“She really does have loads of them!” Mildred exclaimed, “Look there’s a shelf up top, I’ll see if I can reach it,” she said, reaching up to the shelf. She ran her hand along it feeling for any thing that might be sitting on it, “There’s nothing up here,” she said. 

“You know, this is Miss Hardbroom we’re talking about, she’s not exactly going to hide it in an obvious spot is she?” Fenella asked, and idea had struck her, “You know how she keeps her magic mirror behind that panel in Miss Cackle’s office? What if,” she said, feeling at the back of the wardrobe, “there’s a secret panel behind here, like a false wall.” She knocked on the wooden back of the wardrobe and soon enough found an area that sounded hollow, “I think I found it,” she said. 

Mildred knelt down next to her and moved some of the dresses out of the way. 

Fenella pushed against the panel and it revealed a hidden cavity, inside was a simple wooden box, “It must be in here,” she said, taking the box out. She opened it carefully and sure enough there was a very worn and well used notebook, “This is it!” She exclaimed. 

“Extreme! Now let’s put the box back behind the panel and get out of here,” Mildred said. 

***

“Did you find it?” Enid said, immediately when Fenella and Mildred came out of HB’s room. 

“We did!” Mildred exclaimed.

“What was it like in there?” Enid couldn’t help herself.

“It’s just a room, Enid, like any other,” Mildred answered, locking the door.

“Oh come on, like I’m going to believe that! This is HB we’re talking about.” Enid retorted. 

“It was nothing special Enid, I promise,” Mildred replied. 

“How boring, if you’re telling the truth that is,” Enid said, accepting she’d never know. But still choosing to accept her version. 

“Come on, let’s get back, we need to find a spell,” Fenella said, reminding everyone why they were up here in the first place. 

 

***

They raced back down to the Potion Lab, Fenella had begun flipping carefully through the notebook, Miss Hardbroom’s elegant handwriting filled the pages, there was a lot of magic contained in this volume, and she felt almost privileged that she was the one who was looking through it. She doubted Miss Hardbroom had shown it to many people. 

“What kind of spell are we even looking for anyway?” Enid asked, “Like she’s just going to have it labeled as ‘Spell To Banish My Evil Tutor’ or something, how do we know which one we need?” 

“It’ll have something to do with the Foster’s effect,” Fenella replied, ignoring Enid’s remark. 

“Remember when we were on that camping trip and she stopped the snowstorm? That’s probably the one we need,” Mildred added. 

“There are so many in here, look, here’s the concealment spell she used on you and Miss Drill, Millie,” Fenella pointed at the page, noting the extra notes HB had written in the margins, “she really knows her stuff, wish she’d teach us some of it.” She continued to look through the book, and eventually came across one which she thought was the one they needed, “I think this is it,” she said, showing the others. 

“That looks complicated,” Mildred observed, “are we sure can do it?” 

“It’s not even written in English!” Enid exclaimed, “You know you’re dealing with intense magic when the spell’s written in Latin.” 

Fenella marvelled at how Enid’s mind worked, she rolled her eyes, but Enid wasn’t wrong, a pure Latin spell meant it was ancient magic, likely very powerful too, and not used very often as a result. 

“Are we sure this is it?” Maud asked, “We really don’t want to get this wrong,” she added. 

“I’m pretty certain, yes, quick get me a piece of paper and I’ll copy it down,” Fenella said. 

Griselda then handed her a piece of paper so she could write it down. She made sure to copy it exactly as HB had written it, fearing one mistake would cost them the spell. 

“Okay, let’s go, we need to hurry, it feels like the storm is getting worse,” Fenella said. 

Everyone nodded and raced out of the classroom and went straight to the broomshed. 

They promptly gathered their brooms and set off to find their teachers.


	14. she finds a way, and from the shadows she crawls out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [](https://imgur.com/naheduc)  
> (chapter image by me)

Imogen was getting impatient, she didn’t know how much longer she could simply stand here and watch the scene in front of her, “Miss Cackle, really, are we going to do something? She’s hurting her!” she pleaded. 

Miss Cackle look up at the intensifying storm, she too knew they had to do something, but at this point she feared that doing anything would probably make the situation a lot worse. 

“Miss Cackle! Please,” Imogen pleaded, “do something, _anything!_ I can’t lose her, Amelia, I just can’t.”

Miss Cackle put her arms around Imogen, in an attempt to comfort her, “You won’t lose her, Imogen,” she said, stroking the back of Imogen’s head and neck. 

***

“There! Over by that clearing,” Mildred pointed.

As they descended, Fenella looked up at the storm, “This is worse than I thought, we’d better hurry.” 

Mildred nodded, and turned back to show the others behind them where they were landing. 

As the group landed they quickly ran to where Miss Cackle and Miss Drill were watching from. 

“Girls! What are you doing here? You shouldn’t be here, it’s too dangerous!” Miss Cackle exclaimed. 

“We had to do something Miss Cackle, besides we think we have a spell that will save Miss Hardbroom,” Mildred replied. 

“You do, do you? And which spell would that be?” Miss Cackle asked, hoping this would be a moment where she would reflect on how industrious and resourceful her students were. 

Fenella handed her the piece of paper, she had been the one to hold onto it, everyone agreed that if Mildred had it with her, it would have absolutely not survived the journey. Even Mildred admitted they were probably right and had agreed to let Fenella have it. 

Miss Cackle carefully examined the spell, “Yes, I think you’re right Mildred, this should help. Where did you find such a spell?” 

No one spoke.

“Don’t worry girls, you’re not in trouble here, I understand you found this somewhere, I am just curious as to where,” Miss Cackle reassured them. 

Everyone looked at Mildred, “Fine, I’ll do it,” she said, looking at all of her friends, and then turned back to Miss Cackle, “Miss, we found it in one of Miss Hardbroom’s notebooks,” she explained, hesitantly. 

“One of Miss Hardbroom’s notebooks? Now where would you have found such a thing?” She asked. 

“Her room, Miss, behind a secret panel in her wardrobe,” Mildred replied, fearing even more than before that they would absolutely be getting in trouble for this. 

“I don’t want to know how you managed to find out that her wardrobe had a secret panel or that a notebook filled with presumably powerful spells like this one existed, but given the circumstances, I would say you all deserve the benefit of the doubt, and you may have just saved all of us by finding it.” 

“We just wanted to help, that’s all,” Mildred said, “Miss Cackle, will the spell work? Will it save Miss Hardbroom?” 

“I think so, I think if we all say it, that should be enough to stop the storm. It will not stop the Inspector from harming Constance, but it’s a start and we can all work on that problem after we have solved this one,” Miss Cackle explained, “Imogen, you come over here too and join us in saying the spell, the more magical energy we have the more likely it is that this will work.” Everyone huddled around Miss Cackle, who was holding the paper with the spell on it, “Remember what I told you girls about the feeling you put into the words when you say a spell? I would say that is especially important in this case, so feel free to put as much feeling into it as you can.” 

***

Constance didn’t know how much longer she could keep doing this, countering Broomhead’s attacks was taking everything she had. When she could, she quickly glanced over to where Imogen and Miss Cackle were hiding, she noticed the arrival of the girls, and while she really wished they weren’t here to see this, she was glad they were. She had come to know them as being very resourceful whenever trouble was about, she hoped whatever they had planned would also be one of those times. She wondered if Broomhead had noticed the arrival of Imogen and the others, she hoped that she hadn’t, that may at least give them the element of surprise for whatever they were planning. 

She clawed at the leaf-covered ground around her, pulling herself towards a tree she was planning on hiding behind. A bolt of magic from Broomhead raced towards her. She wasn’t fast enough and it hit the back of her leg before she could take cover. She clutched her injured leg in an attempt to stop the pain coming from it. She ripped the bottom of her dress and wrapped the torn fabric around her wound. She pulled herself into a position where she could see Broomhead and threw a bolt of magic at her. She quickly hid back behind the tree to avoid Broomhead’s inevitable counter attack. 

“If you’ve got a plan, Imogen, please, please, let it work,” she pleaded. 

***

The group moved forward, they knew they wouldn’t have much time to say this spell, for as soon as they did they would be discovered. As they said the words, the magic in the air began to dissipate, first the lightning-like energy emanating from the clouds, and then the clouds themselves. 

“I think it’s working!” Mildred exclaimed.

“Keep saying the spell, it’s not over yet,” Miss Cackle said.

*** 

Constance felt a change in the air, the tension created by the abundance of magical energy was clearing. She peered up at what little she could see of the sky and noticed it was becoming clearer than before. She used what little energy she had remaining to make herself stand up, and walked away from her protected spot. She saw the group still casting a spell, she knew they were weakening the effects of Broomhead’s magic. 

Broomhead had both hands raised, conjuring powerful gold bolts magic from her fingertips, reciting a spell as she did so.  
Constance hobbled over to her, interrupting her spell-casting. 

“Do you wish to die Constance?” 

“It is not me who will be dying, Hecketty.” Constance replied, using her first name for the first time in her life. 

“Is that so? Do you really think that pathetic group can stop me?” 

Constance looked up, “They seem to be doing just that, actually.” 

“Clearing the Foster’s effect is not of any consequence, I am still here, and I am still able to destroy you,” she replied calmly, but with determination. 

***

Imogen couldn’t help herself, she could see the state Constance was in, and had to go to her. She quietly snuck away from the group, who were all too focused on casting the spell to notice her departure. She ran towards Constance, she could see she was having words with Broomhead, and took that as her chance, since no magic was being thrown around so she would at least have a chance of getting there in one piece. 

Constance noticed, “Imogen!” she cried, “Get back!”

“I couldn’t stand watching you be injured any longer,” she replied, holding Constance tightly. Constance winced, “Oh, sorry, I should have realised, you’re injured, sorry,” Imogen carefully broke the embrace. 

“What is _she_ doing here? Do you really think you can do anything to save your precious Constance? You’re not even a _witch_ ,” Broomhead’s words were filled with malice, Imogen being here now made her more determined to end this battle; with her as victor.

Constance pushed Imogen behind her, and turned her attention to Broomhead, “I lost her once, you vile creature, I will not let it happen again. You took her from me, I know you did. You erased her. Why would you do that? To punish me? Why was that, because you could never find what I had found with Imogen, is that it?” 

Broomhead was taken aback by Constance’s bluntness, but refused to give in to her words, “How dare you, accuse me of being as pathetic as _you._ ” 

“You made it your mission to punish me in every aspect of my life, nothing was left untouched. You are responsible for all of the misery in my life, all because you could never find happiness. You just had to take it out on me.” 

“You had a chance, Constance, a chance to be the best witch this world has ever known. I gave you everything you could ever have wanted: the chance for power, the chance to have all the knowledge in the magical world at your fingertips, and you threw it away, all because of some pretty girl who caught your eye. You became weak once you met her, weak and pathetic. Of course I had to stop that, all of the precious time I had put into making you into my protégé, and what thanks did I get for all of that effort? Absolutely _none!_ ” She waved her hand and sent Constance flying back into a tree. 

“Not so powerful now, are you, Constance? And your little non-witch can’t do anything to help you,” Broomhead said, as she held Imogen back with a magical barrier. 

“I will always be more powerful than you,” Constance said, the combination of anger and fierce need to protect Imogen was all she had left as motivation to keep going. 

“And yet you are the one lying on the ground, and I am standing over you,” Broomhead taunted.

Constance tried to stand, but Broomhead knocked her back to the ground. 

***

The result of the Foster’s effect had been taken care of, but everyone knew they still had other very real problems to deal with. Miss Cackle noticed that Imogen had run over to Constance, while she was mad at her for being so reckless, she understood that she could never have stopped her. She was now focused on destroying the barrier created by Broomhead, which was holding Imogen back. She raised her hands and began casting the spell to dissipate the barrier. Her thoughts were interrupted by Mildred, who rushed over to her seemingly brimming with energy, “Miss Cackle, we were talking and we think we have an idea, on how to stop the Inspector,” she said. 

“What is it, Mildred? Quickly, I have to concentrate if I want to destroy this barrier.” 

“We need to go back to the castle, to get what we need to make this work,” Mildred explained. 

“Whatever it is Mildred, you had better be right about it. I fear we do not have much time left,” Miss Cackle replied, still focused on destroying the barrier. 

“Yes, Miss, we’ll be back shortly, I promise.” 

Mildred and Fenella hopped on Fenella’s broomstick and flew as fast as they could back to the castle, “You’d better be right about this Mildred, I don’t like that we left everyone in the middle of a battle,” Fenella said, realising that she was placing all of her trust in Mildred Hubble. 

“It will work, I know it will,” Mildred replied, “it has to.” 

***

They landed in the courtyard and ran into the castle. They headed straight for Miss Cackle’s office, and grabbed Miss Hardbroom’s mirror, “Got it!” Mildred yelled, “Let’s go, we have to get back.” 

“Mildred, listen to me, carefully, since I will have to steer the broomstick, I need you to hold onto this mirror as if your life depended on it, we can’t risk you dropping it or anything, okay?” Fenella said, carefully handing the mirror over to Mildred. She was now even more unsure of the trust she was placing in Mildred.  
“I promise, nothing will happen to it,” Mildred said. 

“It had better not,” Fenella said, “now let’s go.” 

***

The mirror did indeed make it back to the forest in one piece, Fenella had never felt more relieved in her life. They quickly ran back to where everyone was, noting that the Inspector’s shield was still in effect, and Miss Cackle appeared to still be trying to dissipate it. They ran over to her and started telling her their plan, “We figured that we could use Broomhead’s magic against her and deflect it using Miss Hardbroom’s mirror,” Miss Cackle looked skeptical, but she had to admire their creativity, “it’s a magic mirror, so it should be able to deflect the magic shouldn’t it?” Miss Cackle nodded, “Theoretically, yes, it should, but how are you planning on doing this?” 

“Can we channel the magic from this barrier towards Broomhead? Use her own spell to keep Miss Drill away back on her?” Fenella suggested. 

“It might just work,” Miss Cackle said, “if we can distract her and get her to aim at us, we can then use the mirror to deflect the attack right back on her, and if it collides with her barrier, that should amplify the magic, and that should be enough to defeat her. I’ll be the bait, and you two make sure you’re standing behind me and be ready when the moment comes.”

They both nodded and followed Miss Cackle’s instructions. 

Miss Cackle walked purposefully out to where Imogen was standing behind Broomhead’s barrier, her hands scarred from its power from where she had been trying to break through it. 

“We have a plan, Imogen,” Miss Cackle began and quickly explained their idea. 

“Amelia, can I just ask one thing, please let me be the one to hold the mirror. For everything that she has done to me, I need to do this, please.” 

“Very well,” she replied, knowing it would be foolish to argue, plus she had a point, it was only fair that Imogen be the one to end this, “Fenella, Mildred, give the mirror to Miss Drill and go back to your friends.” 

They nodded and handed the mirror over, “Good luck, Miss Drill, I know you can do it,” Mildred said. 

Imogen smiled, “Thank you Mildred,” she turned back to Miss Cackle, “I’m ready when you are.” 

“Don’t you think you’ve done enough, Mistress Broomhead?” 

Broomhead turned around and realised who had asked her such a question, “Think you can save her do you?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t,” Miss Cackle replied. 

“Very well, do your best, but I doubt that will mean much,” Broomhead taunted, conjuring a bolt of magic and throwing it towards Miss Cackle. It pierced her barrier and like clockwork, Imogen took her place with the mirror in front of her, directly in the spell’s path. Once the bolt hit the mirror, the mirror shook with the force of the magic it had been exposed to, then as they hoped it flew back in Broomhead’s direction; amplified by the barrier as well as the magic in the mirror, it hit her directly in the back, sending her falling to the ground. 

As the magic enveloped her, she was turned to dust and eventually even the particles of dust disintegrated in the air. 

It was over.


	15. guess i'm holding onto treasures; to words i wish to hear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: There's still more even after this one folks, so stay tuned xD.

  
* * *  
Since Broomhead’s forced separation, the only chance they had had to see each other had been in classes. A few times Imogen had dared to look over at Constance and smile, hoping to catch her doing the same. She longed to see her look happy again.  
  
Constance noticed Imogen’s attempts at contact with her, while she appreciated her trying, she knew it was risky and tried her best to let Imogen know she was all right, even if her only way of doing that was giving her a subtle smile.  
  
They did have classes that weren’t taught by Broomhead, however her influence and her command over everyone permeated through the school, and every member of staff had been made aware that under no circumstances were Constance and Imogen allowed to sit with each other during their lessons. They had tried a few times, with some of their kinder teachers, but the teachers themselves feared punishment from Broomhead, so they were often forced to sit apart. Constance was more than halfway convinced that Broomhead was able to see her at all times and would somehow know if she sat with Imogen.  
  
* * *  
  
Her room was always cold, there was always a draft coming from somewhere. Perhaps intended as a way to make them both miserable, Broomhead had allowed each of them to keep their possessions. This, while also making her miserable, did give Constance some comfort, as she still had the blanket Imogen had given her in their first year. Imogen had told her that she had brought too many (at her mother’s insistence, in her own words: _‘Castles are always cold, and you know how you get Imogen, you need to keep warm, I don’t want a frozen daughter returned to me after you finish college.’)_ and Constance should have one of them, since she appeared to have only brought one with her. The blanket still held onto Imogen’s scent, this made Constance’s heart heavy and she felt the absence of her best friend. She wrapped herself in the blanket and closed her eyes. She hoped she would be lucky enough to at least meet Imogen in her dreams.  
  
* * *  
  
Imogen had started to keep a diary of all the things she wanted to tell Constance whenever she was free of Broomhead’s tyranny. It started out as small things that crossed her mind when her thoughts drifted away from whatever topic they were meant to be discussing during class, but had developed into a collection of heart-felt words she wished Constance to hear, and a collection of their memories together. She hoped she would be able to share it with her one day, that hope compelled her to keep doing it.  
  
_4th of April_  
  
I _thought about us sitting by the river this afternoon, during one of Miss Hazelwood’s lectures on the benefits of spring flowers in potion making, all the talk of spring flowers made me long for the warm spring days we spent together there, at the river. You trying to study and me annoying you as usual, trying to get you to relax. I should have known it’d never work, no one can force you to do anything you don’t want to, you always find a way to make something yours, to do it your way. ~~Except of course now. No. No. I said I wouldn’t bring that up.~~ Back on topic Imogen. I’d love to see you fall asleep in the grass, relaxed and happy. Wow Imogen, you really know how to bring the mood down. I’d better stop before it gets much worse._  
  
* * *  
  
_10th of May_  
  
_You looked especially pretty this evening in our study period. I love how you look in candlelight. Remind me to only light our house with candles in the future, so I can see you in my favourite light all the time. That’s probably a bit much though, isn’t it? Candles all the time would remind me of this place. No, we should definitely have normal lights, you know that are powered with electricity, like buildings are in the 20th century. Now I’m rambling about lights, oh dear. I’d better stop. Meet you back here with more thoughts. ~~Hopefully not of lights.~~_  
  
* * *  
  
_23rd of May_  
  
_We did our mock-teaching demonstration today. Your's of course was perfect. I could have done better. Think of all of the lucky students that will have you as their teacher. I bet they’ll be lining up to get into your classes. You really know how to command a room. I need to work on that. You should teach me. I was thinking though, it might be fun to teach P.E? Might be a nice change of pace, more relaxed. You’re probably thinking this is utter nonsense, I can hear it now, ‘Imogen, P.E? Really? What are you thinking? Witches don’t need to be taught how to run in circles, they need to be taught spells and potions, things to make them into powerful witches.’ You’re always telling me to have goals to reach for, even if they do involve running in circles, right? Am I imitating you or every teacher who’s ever taught me?_  
  
***  
  
Imogen’s hands were still gripping the mirror tightly. She felt like time had frozen, every mundane sound seemed amplified, she could hear birds chirping, and the breeze blowing through the trees, the trickle of the water in the stream. She stood, still, listening to the sounds. She felt someone put their arm on her back, she jumped in surprise. She heard someone say her name, was someone talking to her?  
  
“Imogen?” Came Miss Cackle’s voice, “Imogen? It’s over, you can put down the mirror.”  
  
Imogen was brought back to reality, “Yes, of course,” she said, as if she should have known to do it. She put the shattered mirror on the ground, and her new purpose was to go to Constance. She ignored everything else and ran over to her. She knelt down beside her, and buried her head in her shoulder. Constance didn’t move, she was staring at the ground, now covered what little was left of Broomhead. Imogen didn’t know what to say or what to do, all she could do was cry. Imogen’s display of emotion was enough to bring Constance back to reality. She turned to face her and hugged her, “Let’s get away from here,” she finally said, “back to the school.”  
  
Imogen nodded and they both stood up, slowly making their way back to Miss Cackle.  
  
With the help of Miss Cackle and the other girls Imogen and Constance were brought back to the school, and taken straight to the hospital wing.  
  
The nurse began to heal their physical wounds using both potions and healing spells, but the rest would take time, in light of getting them back to the school everyone realised and respected that it would take them more than anyone a while to fully process what had happened, so they were left to their thoughts in the hospital wing.  
  
***  
  
Images of Broomhead’s final moments flashed like a slide-show through Constance’s mind, she replayed the events over and over. She opened her eyes, not wanting to close them again fearing she would be witness to those memories again, she looked down and noticed she had been put into a bed in the hospital wing. She looked around and noticed Imogen asleep in the bed next to her, at least she was here too. She hoped she was having pleasant dreams, but she feared Imogen’s would be as disturbed as her own. She tried to move to face Imogen, but found it difficult due to her injuries. She had not realised how much physical damage Broomhead had done to her until she saw all of the bandages covering her body. She vaguely remembered the nurse casting healing spells over her the previous night, and supposed they had also used some healing potions.  
  
Since moving onto her side had proven to be too difficult, she tried to sit up, it too was difficult, but she did it anyway, wincing at the pain in her side as she did. Once she was upright, she looked at her hands, they had small cuts all over them, probably from when she dragged herself through the forest, avoiding Broomhead’s attacks. She lifted up her sleeves to see how her arms fared, and to her shock they were clear of any damage. She rubbed her hand over her now smooth skin; there were no more scars. She looked around and made sure no one else was around, and stood up and drew the curtains around her bed. Once her privacy could be assured, she unbuttoned the first few buttons of her pyjamas, which revealed smooth skin. She was perhaps more taken aback by the lack of scars than she was of being covered in bandages. It seemed that the damage caused by Broomhead’s dark magic when she was young had dissipated along with her, which made sense given the source of the magic had now been destroyed. It was a new feeling for Constance to feel her skin be smooth and free of scar tissue. She could hear someone walking towards her bed so she did up her pyjamas, and returned the curtains to their previous state.  
  
It was the nurse coming to check on her.  
  
“You shouldn’t be sitting up like that, Miss Hardbroom, you need to rest. The potions and spells still need time to fully take effect, you need to heal,” she told her, laying her back in her bed.  
  
Constance merely nodded and followed the instructions given to her, resisting was pointless, and even she knew she had to rest.  
  
***  
  
Imogen slowly opened her eyes and looked around, she was in the hospital wing. Quickly her eyes darted to the bed to her left, she breathed a sigh of relief; Constance was here too. She pulled her arm from out of the blanket and tapped Constance on the shoulder, “You awake?” she asked, softly.  
  
Constance turned her head and nodded, “Yes, good to see you awake too, you were still sleep when I first woke up earlier.”  
  
“I’m just glad you’re all right, I wasn’t sure we would get out of that one,” Imogen admitted.  
  
“It’s over now, she can no longer hurt me,” Constance said, looking at Imogen, “or you, again.”  
  
***  
  
Mildred sat up in her bed, absentmindedly playing with the end of her plait. She turned and looked out the window, the sky was actually not grey for once it seemed like recently that was all it was capable of and it felt strange to not see a storm raging. She wondered how Miss Hardbroom and Miss Drill were getting on, all things considered she was lucky to escape with no injuries, but she knew it had not been the case for her teachers. She thought about the battle and how much everyone involved ended up contributing, she was proud of her friends and of her teachers.  
  
A knock at her door interrupted her thoughts, she knew it would be her friends, they surely would be wondering how she was doing. She went to get up to go over to the door, but before she had a chance the door opened revealing her visitors.  
  
“Millie, you’re awake!” Maud said, running over to her friend and hugging her.  
  
“Are you okay?” Jadu asked.  
  
“Yeah, I’m okay,” Mildred answered, “Does anyone know how Drill and HB are?”  
  
“I heard Miss Cackle say they were in the hospital wing recovering. Seems like they were both badly hurt in the battle,” Jadu replied, “I don’t know if anyone’s been in to see them though.”  
  
“I don’t suppose they’d want visitors, especially HB, I doubt she would want her students to see her in such a fragile state,” Mildred said, “saying that though, I think it would be nice to go and visit them, and thank them for what they did for us. I mean they saved everyone’s lives by fighting off that Inspector.”  
  
Everyone nodded, “We should go get Fennie and Gris too, after all they helped us find the spell that got rid of the storm, they probably would want to thank Miss Hardbroom and Miss Drill too, wouldn’t they?” Maud asked.  
  
“Do you really think that’s a good idea, Maud? If we thanked HB for the spell, surely she would figure out we went and snooped in her bedroom,” Enid said, figuring that even an injured HB could still give them detention.  
  
“We’ll just leave that part out,” Maud said, “still we should go and thank them, don’t you think Millie?”  
  
Mildred considered Maud’s support for her idea, “Maybe it’s best if only one of us goes, I mean, we don’t want to overwhelm them.”  
  
“Then I vote it should be you,” Enid said, raising her hand.  
  
“Of course you do,” Jadu said, rolling her eyes, any way for Enid to stay out of her teacher’s way and she would take it.  
  
“Should we magic them some flowers? And then everyone can sign a card, and I’ll go and give it to them,” Mildred suggested.  
  
“That sounds like a plan,” Maud said.  
  
***  
  
Mildred walked carefully with the bunch of flowers they had conjured for Miss Drill and Miss Hardbroom, with the help of Fennie and Gris they had managed to make a pretty arrangement. Flower conjuring had never been her strong point, she remembered the incident with Miss Cackle and the pollen. Shaking that memory from her mind, she walked over to the door to the hospital wing, she peered her head in and saw that both Miss Drill and Miss Hardbroom were awake.  
  
As she walked carefully over to them, the nurse noticed her and came over to her, “These are for Miss Drill and Miss Hardbroom, we thought it would be a nice way to thank them for saving the school,” Mildred explained.  
  
The nurse nodded and led her over to her teachers.  
  
“Hello Miss Drill, Miss Hardbroom, I brought these for you. All of us have written something in a card for you too,” Mildred said, as she did the nurse brought over a vase for her to put them in, “thank you,” Mildred said, and placed the vase on the table.  
  
“How kind and thoughtful, thank you Mildred,” Imogen said.  
  
“I won’t stay, I don’t want to bother you, we just wanted to say thank you for all you both did these past few days,” Mildred said, going to leave.  
  
“Thank you, Mildred,” came the voice of Constance.

  
Mildred smiled and left, it had been a good suggestion of hers to do this, she was pleased.


	16. the way she paints the world; i want that in my life

Their next few days were spent recovering in the hospital wing. Imogen was beginning to get impatient and very much wanted to breathe fresh air and go for a run, or at the very least a walk. She would take whatever she could get at this point. Constance was also beginning to feel the strain of not being allowed to leave her hospital bed. She wanted to return to her work and return to her routine, she had always found solace in structure and not having any was driving her crazy. She supposed the only good take-away from this was that she was spending a lot of time around Imogen.   
  
They had not really spoken about the events in the forest, for Constance it would take some getting used to knowing that the source of her troubles was no more. Imogen still had to recover some memories, some had returned to her once Broomhead had dissipated but she felt her mind was burying some of the more traumatic ones, such as how she had managed to lose her magic. She wondered if she would be able to recover everything, or indeed if she should. She was happy in herself as she was now, but she did also desire to know the part of herself that Broomhead had taken from her.   
  
***  
  
The nurse attempted to help Constance out of her bed and stand up, “I am fine. I know how to stand,” she pursed her lips and glared at the nurse. Imogen had been allowed to leave an hour ago, (something about her not having as severe injures) she didn’t understand why she should have to suffer this confinement any longer.   
  
“Very well Miss Hardbroom,” the nurse replied, she’d had enough of dealing with Constance’s stubbornness and decided to let her do things her way, if that’s what she wanted.   
  
“Thank you,” Constance retorted, standing up straight. She crossed her arms and vanished herself to her own room.   
  
***  
Once back in her own space, she looked around studying it. Something felt out of place, at first she could not pinpoint it, so she walked over to her desk and noticed some books were not where she left them. She picked up the small pile of books and put them back, as she did she noticed her photograph of herself and Imogen, it had been taken not long after they had started at Witch Training College, before Broomhead had really done any significant damage. The photograph, too, seemed like it had been moved. ‘Someone has been in here,’ she reasoned. She walked purposefully over to her wardrobe, noticing the door slightly ajar. She opened the door, revealing some of her dresses pushed to one side. She knelt down and checked on her secret panel at the back. She opened it, revealing the small box inside. At least that was still there, _‘but what of its contents?’_ She wondered. She pulled the box out from its place and opened it, everything was still inside as it should be, but something felt askew. Why would her dresses be pushed aside, and why would her books and photograph be out of place? For the moment, she decided to leave it alone, but she would find out eventually.   
  
She placed the box back into the panel and sealed it again, also making sure to neatly arrange her dresses again.   
  
  
***  
Imogen had retreated to the staff-room, distracting herself with Miss Bat’s tales of Mongolia, and the tea Miss Cackle had made for her. It was not the company she desired, but it would do for the moment. She was sat half listening to Miss Bat when Constance came into the room, her presence was felt immediately, she had a way of making everyone stop and notice her. Imogen was pleased to see her up and walking around, though she figured she’d driven the nurse insane and she’d begged her leave. She looked over at her and gestured for her to join her. Constance, however was not in the mood for hearing about whatever strange tale Miss Bat had to offer, so she declined and asked if she could speak with Imogen in private.   
  
Imogen was glad for the excuse to leave, she didn’t know how much more of Miss Bat’s story she could bare to listen to, so she thanked Miss Cackle for the tea and left with Constance.   
  
“Thank you,” she said, as they left the staff-room.   
  
“For what?”  
  
“Rescuing me from that,” Imogen replied, pointing back at the staff-room.   
  
Constance smiled, “You’re welcome.”   
  
They walked down the corridor and out to the courtyard, “How are you feeling?” Imogen asked.  
  
“You were with me in the hospital wing, you ought to know,” Constance replied, small-talk was not her forte.   
  
“That’s not what I’m referring to, and you know it,” Imogen said.   
  
“Yes, of course,” Constance started, “actually Imogen, there is something I wish to share with you, an interesting byproduct of Broomhead’s demise, you could say.”   
  
Imogen was definitely interested, “What is it?” She asked.   
  
Constance pulled up her sleeve and showed Imogen her arm. She took her hand and placed it onto her smooth skin, “Do you notice a difference?” She asked.   
  
“Constance!” Imogen exclaimed, running her hand over the now smooth skin of Constance’s arm, “Your scars, they’re gone!”   
  
She nodded, “A benefit of Broomhead no longer existing I suppose,” she said.   
  
“Are you all right?” Imogen asked.  
  
“I have not really given it too much thought as yet, but I will be,” Constance replied, “Imogen, it’s not just my arms that have been cleared of her damage, I want to show you the rest, but not here, we need to go somewhere private,” Constance said.   
  
“What do you mean, there’s nobody around, how much more private do you want?” Imogen said, not really understanding Constance’s meaning.   
  
Constance took Imogen’s hand in hers and vanished them up to her room.   
  
Imogen understood Constance’s meaning when she saw her reveal her shoulders, “See? Feel it.” Constance instructed.   
  
Imogen ran her hands over Constance’s smooth skin, “You were beautiful before, Constance, and now that your body is free of Broomhead’s evil, it is even more so,” Imogen said, “does that then mean you won’t be so shy in letting me see your body anymore?” She teased.   
  
Constance felt herself blush, she did not know how to process Imogen’s words, given that her appearance was still new to herself.   
  
Imogen noticed and smiled, “It’s all right, Constance, I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to.”   
  
Constance nodded, and smiled back at her.   
  
Imogen walked around to the back of her and pulled the black fabric back over her shoulders and did the buttons up for her.   
  
“Thank you,” Constance said.  
  
Imogen ran her hands over Constance’s shoulders and walked back around to stand in front of her, “Thank you for showing me, it makes me happy to know that evil woman’s damage is gone. Plus, I got to see how beautiful your skin is without it.”   
  
“Do you really think it’s beautiful? I have always found it too pale,” Constance admitted.  
  
“It’s gorgeous, like porcelain,” Imogen told her.   
  
“I’m, I’m glad you like it,” Constance said, her breathing becoming more shallow as she got closer to Imogen.  
  
“I do,” Imogen said, struggling to manage more, really all she was focusing on was the beauty of the woman before her.   
  
Constance looked down at Imogen and lent in to kiss her.   
  
Imogen felt the familiar surge of magic flow through her, she’d almost forgotten how good it felt to be kissed by Constance Hardbroom. She opened her mouth slightly to let Constance’s tongue in, deepening the kiss she wrapped her arms around her love in an attempt to be as close as possible to her.   
  
“Let’s go back outside, and get some fresh air, we’ve been cooped up in this castle for days, and I don’t know about you but I could do with seeing the outside world,” Imogen suggested, after they’d broken the kiss.   
  
“But I like the inside of the castle,” Constance protested.   
  
Imogen smiled, nothing ever changes with her, “Fresh air is also nice, you know, plus we can always continue this later,” she said, holding out her hand for Constance to take.   
  
“Very well then,” she conceded, “let’s have it your way.”  
  
***  
  
“Where are we going Imogen? You said we were going outside, I didn’t think that meant trekking into the wilderness,” Constance protested.   
  
Imogen smiled and continued to lead her through the field, and down to the river.   
  
When they arrived they were met with a picnic blanket and basket laid out by the edge of the river.   
  
Imogen gestured for Constance to sit.   
  
“You want me to sit down? On the grass?”   
  
“On a blanket, but yes, sit.”   
  
“I do not usually do such things Imogen, you should know that.”   
  
“I thought it would be nice for us to get away from the school for a while, and just spend time together,” she reasoned, “besides I know we have a lot to talk about, and I thought you’d more comfortable doing so away from the castle.”   
  
Constance nodded.   
  
“So how are you feeling?” Imogen asked, hoping to get an actual answer this time.   
  
Constance took a moment to consider her response, “I don’t know if my words will accurately be able to describe how I feel, Imogen, you know as well as I how much of an influence that woman had over my life. To have her gone from it, is a new feeling, and one which will take some getting used to.”   
  
“I know what you mean, even though I can only remember parts of what it was like with her, even that is enough to know what she was like and to have an impact on me now,” Imogen added.   
  
“I am pleased that my skin is free from the damage she caused, she probably sensed that I was always uncomfortable with my body, so she must have known that if she inflicted her damage on it that it would make it worse for me, thus making me even more miserable,” Constance continued, “but that is all in the past now, I must learn to move on from it.”   
  
“It is not something that will be easily forgotten, but I know you’ll be able to move on from it,” Imogen said.   
  
“Without her ruling my life, I will have to figure out who I am and what I actually want and how I want to do things, such freedom is new to me, one thing that she ingrained in me was structure and the idea of working hard to achieve perfect results, I do not know any other way,” Constance added.  
  
“You don’t need to change because she is no longer here, and you don’t need to adhere to her rules for the same reason, just continue to do what you want to do, I’m sure you will find a balance between what you want and what you choose to hold onto from her teachings,” Imogen said.   
  
“I suppose you’re right,” Constance replied, and decided to change the topic slightly, “Imogen, are you wanting to continue to uncover some of your lost memories?”   
  
“I have thought about that, a lot, actually, part of me wants to know what I’m missing out on, but the other part is telling me maybe those things should stay in the past,” Imogen replied, “but I think I do want to know.”   
  
“I admit it is rather selfish, but I would like you to recall more of our time together at Witch Training College, there are memories from that time that I am sure once you recover you will be glad you did, “ Constance said, “we can continue tomorrow, in the Potion Lab.”   
  
Imogen nodded, “Sounds like a date, just like old times, you and me in the Potion Lab, recovering my memories.”   
  
“Why must everything be a ‘date’ to you Imogen? Can it not just be the two of us spending time together, enjoying each others company whilst also performing witchcraft?”   
  
“Constance, that is precisely what a date is,” Imogen replied, letting out a small laugh.   
  
Constance tried to hide her embarrassment, “Oh, yes, of course, you’re right. Does that mean this is also a ‘date’?”  
  
“In a sense, yes, Constance,” Imogen replied, kissing her softly.   
  
“I look forward to it then,” she replied with a smile.


	17. like a good book i can't put this day back

She flicked her wrist and her distinctive handwriting formed on the blackboard in front of her: Memory Recovery Potions: Theory and Practice. She turned around and began preparing the cauldron she used for demonstrations, it was larger than the ones the girls used as she also used it for preparing supplies of potions they would need both for teaching purposes and her own magical pursuits. Constance went to the storage cupboard and selected the necessary ingredients, she also noticed she had a small supply left of her original memory recovery potion batch from when she had begun helping Imogen. Those bottles and the potion within them were now holding onto memories, reminding her of how far they had already come. She left them in their place and selected the ingredients she would need. She was going to prepare a sample potion for the girls, a very mild one, so they could get an idea of what memory recovery potions were all about. The recipe in the girls’ potion manuals and the one required of her to teach them was a lot weaker than the one she had used with Imogen, after all, the school board didn’t take kindly to long-lost possibly troubling or scandalous secrets getting out in their school’s classrooms. The potion Constance was preparing to teach them was specifically designed to recover memories of a less scandalous nature, simple things such as a a gift received on a childhood birthday or a family holiday to the coast, or some such other thing that she assumed people remembered fondly.  
  
She arranged her ingredients in jars neatly so that they could all be seen by the girls, and opened the potion manual they would all be using, wanting to make sure she made the correct potency and not the one she had committed to her own memory for use with Imogen. She perfectly brewed the potion and it say bubbling in the cauldron, ready for her lesson to begin.  
  
Soon enough she heard a rather raucous sound coming from the corridors, her pupils had been let out from their previous lesson. She stood up straight and walked with purpose to the door, “QUIET!” She called, “When will you girls ever remember to act with dignity and actually manage to line up without sounding like a herd of wild animals. Now, quickly, get into line in an orderly fashion,” she instructed.  
  
A chorus of, “Yes Miss Hardbroom,” was said back to her as the girls lined up outside the Potion Lab.  
  
“That wasn’t so difficult was it? Now, you may enter,” She said, stepping into the lab herself first. The girls began to walk in, talking with each other as they did, “Quietly!” Constance instructed, and sighed at her students lack of retention ability, how ironic that they were talking about memory recovery today. Once everyone was in, she closed the door and walked to the front of the classroom.  
  
“Open your books to page 54, and you will see a basic potion for memory recovery. We will attempt to make this potion today, as well as hear about some of the theory behind memory recovery potions,” she began, making sure everyone followed her instructions before continuing, “now, who can tell me about some of the risks involved with memory recovery potions?” She looked around the class, they were always told to try and give everyone a chance to answer and not just pick the same person every time, but so often she found herself knowing that if she did that, she would never get anything done. She did genuinely care about her students and their progress, she just wished they would actually listen and actually make progress. Seeing a few people’s hands raised, some of which she knew would not have a suitable answer, she noticed, predictably that Ethel’s hand was raised, “Yes, Ethel, would you be able to tell us some of the risks?”  
  
“Well, there is the problem of a person making too strong a potion and revealing things about their past that they would never tell anyone otherwise,” she replied, as if she had rehearsed a speech perfectly.  
  
“Very good, Ethel, yes, that is indeed one side-effect, due to how the potion acts sort of like a truth serum in that when under its effects you are telling the other person your memory as you see it,” Constance surveyed the classroom looking for another candidate, “can anyone else tell me another?” she asked.  
  
Maud raised her hand.  
  
“Yes, Maud Moonshine?”  
  
“Another side-effect is if the potion isn’t brewed properly it can be difficult to isolate a particular memory, and instead the person would just start recalling random events from their life,” she answered.  
  
“Very good, so, girls, taking those points into consideration, follow the instructions in your book to the letter and brew yourself a memory potion. Focusing on something like a birthday gift you received as a child, or a holiday you’ve been on, something simple. Now get to work.”  
  
She sat, and opened her book, making sure to glance over and check on her students’ progress occasionally, though she knew inevitably there would be some who brewed more successful potions than others.  
  
Enid lent over to Mildred and whispered, “Do you think we’ll get to see HB drink one of these? Can you imagine what her birthdays would be like? Do you think she even knows how to celebrate a birthday?”  
  
“Enid, shhh, she’ll hear you. Besides I’m sure she had some great birthdays as a child, her life can’t have been all bad. And you heard what she said, we have to make this potion exactly right or everything will go wrong.” Mildred replied, knowing as much as she did about the situation with Miss Hardbroom and Miss Drill and the Inspector, she could only imagine what HB’s past must have been like. She remembered the photograph and was comforted by the fact that there had been at least a few happy times in her past. She did wonder what it would be like to see HB recall those memories though, then maybe she could see what ‘happy-and-in-love-HB’ was like and if she preferred her to ‘strict-and-scary-HB’.  
  
Constance had heard Enid’s comment, but chose to ignore it, she knew what everyone thought of her and what her life must be like. It was true that she did not remember her childhood fondly, but she wasn’t about to let her students know that. She realised she would have to do a demonstration of the potion for them so they could see what a successful potion was like. A lesser witch would probably be daunted by this, for the fear that they would reveal something secret to their students, but she was Constance Hardbroom, she would not falter so easily. She had done this before with previous classes, she knew exactly which memories to draw upon.  
  
She took her stirring stick and tapped it against the cauldron’s edge, “Time’s up girls!” she called, “Pour a small amount of the potion into your jar, just enough for a sip,” she instructed, doing the same as she spoke, “first I will demonstrate what a successful memory recovery potion should look like, and then each of you will follow,” she said, taking a sip of her potion.  
  
_She was in front of the impressive castle, returning to this place gave her comfort. She had not enjoyed going home for the summer, unlike most pupils at this school who she assumed were delighted to return to their families. She glanced around the entryway, there was a particular witch she was looking for. ‘Where is she? She said she would be here at 10am and it’s 10:17am,’ she sighed, clearly the holidays had done nothing to improve her sense of timekeeping and organisation. She stood watching the other students file back into the school grounds, hoping to find Imogen amongst them._  
  
_Finally, at 10:30am she saw her, “Constance!” she heard her call. Imogen noticed the look of displeasure on her friend’s face, “Sorry, I know, I know, I’m late, my mother insisted on checking everything I had packed and then proceeded to repack it her way,” she took a moment to catch her breath, “but I’m here now, and look, guess what I got for my birthday, it’s a special type of camera you don’t have to wait for the film to be processed, the photograph comes out instantly. Look, it’s really cool, I’ll show you,” Imogen said, the excitement clear in her words._  
  
_Constance noticed Imogen pointing the camera at her, she was not one for new technologies, and didn’t understand popular things and didn’t understand why people got so excited about them. She also wasn’t too keen on getting her photograph taken, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to stop Imogen, plus she could see how excited she was, and she had to admit she found it quite adorable._  
  
_“Stand over there, by the fountain, and I’ll take your photograph, then you’ll see how quickly you get the picture back!” Imogen said, directing Constance to stand where she’d asked._  
  
_Constance obliged, and stood by the fountain in the school’s entry courtyard._  
  
_Imogen took the photograph and watched it print out of the camera’s base, “See, look,” she shook the photograph a few times and watched the image appear, “see, all done,” she said, pleased with herself._  
  
_Constance was a little impressed, “Yes, very good Imogen, perhaps we should get one taken of the two of us? By the entryway?”_  
  
_“Excellent idea, Constance! I’ll go find someone to take it for us,” Imogen said, running off to grab one of their schoolmates._  
  
_The girl she dragged over, reluctantly took the photograph for them, “Is that all right?” She said, handing the camera back to Imogen._  
  
_“Yes, thank you, we really appreciate it,” Imogen replied, and the girl walked off._  
  
_Imogen looked at the photograph, “Constance, you even managed to smile! I’m impressed,” she said, showing her the photograph._  
  
As the potion’s effects wore off,  Constance was suddenly brought back to reality by the palpable silence in her classroom. Her mind had wandered slightly, and had chosen indeed a positive-and-not-so-incriminating memory, but not one she had necessarily wished to share with her potions class. She cleared her throat and diverted their attention to their own potions, “As you can see, that is how it works, now, Ethel you start, a small sip if you will,” she said.  
  
Ethel drunk her potion and started recalling a family trip to visit one of their ancestors homes, which happened to be a grand castle full of history. She spoke proudly and boasted her family's wealth and accomplishments enough to make everyone in the room extremely bored very quickly, including Constance.  
  
“Yes, very good Ethel, now Ruby Cherrytree, if you please, take a sip of your potion.”  
  
Once they had gone through everyone, Constance dismissed her class, they all filed out of the classroom, chatting to each other, she knew about what, or rather about whom. She decided to ignore the inevitable round of gossip that would surely circulate the school, and started clearing up so she could prepare for her next lesson. As she did she noticed she still had a student in the classroom with her: Mildred, of course, it was always Mildred, “What do you want Mildred?”  
  
“I just wanted to say that I liked your story, Miss,” she answered, wanting to show her she understood but also didn’t want to overstep her bounds.  
  
“Did you now? And I suppose you’ll go around telling all of your friends old HB actually had friends and enjoyed herself when she was younger, and how could she possibly have turned out how she did if that was the case?” She was getting a little defensive, out of instinct, she knew how this conversation went she’d been through it a thousand times in her life.  
  
“No, Miss Hardbroom, I won’t tell anyone, just like I’ve not told anyone about you and Miss Drill. The friend you told us about was Miss Drill wasn’t it?”  
  
Constance had almost forgotten about Mildred’s involvement in her love life, not a sentence she thought she’d ever say, but here she was, thinking it. She shook that thought from her mind, “Yes, Mildred, it was. She was quite excited to show me her new camera.”  
  
“It was a really sweet story, thank you for sharing it,” Mildred said.  
  
“I had not intended to share it Mildred, I am usually better prepared for these sorts of demonstrations, but I suppose recent events have had a greater effect on myself than I had first thought,” she clarified.  
  
“I’m glad you did, it makes the photograph seem all the more sweet, knowing the story behind it,” Mildred spoke without thinking, and when she realised what she was saying she covered her mouth to stop more words coming out.  
  
“What do you mean Mildred? Which photograph are you speaking of?” Constance remembered her out of place books, and was piecing some of the puzzle together now.  
  
Mildred decided it was no use trying to cover everything up, that always ended badly for her, and besides, she had used that spell to save Miss Hardbroom’s life (and everyone else’s), surely she would take that into consideration before giving her detention for the rest of her life, “The photograph of you and Miss Drill that you keep on your desk,” she said, not wanting to look her teacher in the eye.  
  
When she did not hear a reply from Miss Hardbroom, she took that as meaning the worst possible outcome and was unable to stop herself from talking, “You see Miss Hardbroom, we only did it because we knew it would save you, and everyone else, and besides it was only Fenella and I who were in there, none of the others saw, and besides I haven’t told anyone about what we saw, I promise-”  
  
Constance cut her off before she could finish, knowing that if she allowed her to kept going she would just dig herself a deeper hole, “Mildred, while I do not take kindly to students snooping around in my personal belongings, and indeed being in my private quarters at all, I do understand why you thought had to do it, and am grateful that you were able to help save everybody,” she spoke softly, letting Mildred know she was not necessarily angry with her, she felt as if the girl had seen into her soul a lot recently and wasn’t overly concerned that it had been her of all people to have been the one to enter into her personal world.  
  
“You’re not mad?” Mildred questioned, hesitantly.  
  
“I am not pleased, but I am not mad at you,” she replied.  
  
“How come? I thought you’d be ready to throw me in the dungeons or kick me out of school when you found out,” Mildred said, curious as to the reason for her teacher’s change of heart.  
  
“As hard as this is for me to say, Mildred, given how you have reacted and indeed acted recently concerning myself and Miss Drill, I can say that at least to a small extent, that I trust you, and I know you would not intentionally do anything malicious with the knowledge you have acquired,” she admitted.  
  
“Thank you Miss Hardbroom,” Mildred replied, “I know it’s been hard for you recently, with that Inspector coming here and all of that, and trying to save Miss Drill from her, knowing you might lose her in the process, I’m glad that everyone is okay and that you don’t have to deal with the Inspector anymore.”  
  
“Thank you, Mildred, I appreciate it, now, you best be off, I have a class to prepare for and I am sure you have one you should be at now,” she replied.  
  
“Yes, Miss Hardbroom, and thank you again,” Mildred said, leaving the room.  
  
Constance returned to preparing for her lesson, and smiled a little at Mildred’s kindness, feeling a little better about having shared a personal story with her class.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Just a bit of clarification: The way I imagined Constance telling her memory was not using specific names, so her students wouldn't know that she was necessarily talking about Imogen, but Mildred knowing as much as she does was able to guess from knowing about the photograph. In addition I wanted you the reader to clearly know she was talking about Imogen, for ease of reading the story.


	18. if you’re a thought you will want me to think you (and i did, and i did)

Imogen had finally finished clearing up the gymnastics equipment from her lesson, she did have a few of the girls help her at the beginning but they soon decided that it was too much work and left her to do the rest, claiming they had classes to go to. She reached her arms up and stretched, then she looked at her watch, _‘by the looks of it Constance should be finished now,’_ she thought. She left the equipment shed and made her way to the Potion Lab, where she assumed Constance would be. Along the way she was met with Fenella Feverfew and her constant companion Griselda Blackwood, they always came as a set, she realised, rarely did you ever see one without the other, she noticed Fenella smiled at her and she directed her eyes in the direction of one of the classrooms near the lab, “If you’re looking for Miss Hardbroom, she’s in there,” she said.   
  
Imogen was slightly confused as to how she knew she was looking for Constance, but thanked her anyway and continued on her way.   
  
She stopped in the doorway to the classroom and lent against the door frame, just observing Constance working, with all of the drama of late she had decided to never take these small moments for granted. She continued to stand there, waiting for Constance to notice her.   
  
“I know you’re there Imogen, I heard you come down the corridor,” Constance said, not looking up from what she was doing.   
  
Imogen smiled, “Absolutely nothing gets past you does it?” she said, walking over to her.   
  
“Not if I can help it, no,” Constance replied, finally looking up at Imogen.  
  
“What have you been doing?”   
  
“Teaching, are you familiar with it?” Constance teased.   
  
Imogen stood with her hands on her hips, “Possibly something I’ve heard of yes.”  
  
“Good, perhaps you could learn how to do it sometime,” Constance continued, she was feeling playful now that her companion was with her again, and she didn’t have to have her guard up constantly.   
  
“Oh really? And do you know where I can learn how to do it?” Imogen asked, playing along with Constance’s teasing.   
  
“I think I might know someone,” she replied, smiling.   
  
“And who might that be?” Imogen asked, stepping closer to her.   
  
“You would make a terrible student Imogen Drill,” Constance said, “of course, I knew you as one, so I would know.”   
  
Imogen smiled, and even though she enjoyed flirting and teasing Constance, she decided to stop playing games and just kiss her, she could only last so long without it.  
  
“Well, that is clearly one subject you need no further instruction on,” Constance said, then lent down to kiss her again and again. She kissed her quickly and many times in a row. She was still in her playful mood and she knew her peppering kisses would be driving Imogen crazy.   
  
“You seem quite adept at it too, I must say,” Imogen said, smiling, “I just wish you’d keep doing it.”  
  
“That can be arranged,” Constance replied, continuing to kiss her in rapid succession.   
  
“You’re such a tease, Miss Hardbroom,” Imogen said, wrapping her hands around her neck.  
  
“You would be correct, Miss Drill,” she replied, “you’re not too bad at it yourself, parading around in that outfit, it’s enough to drive a woman crazy,”   
  
Imogen was wearing a sports bra, with some exercise pants and a light jacket. She figured her attire would be a hit with her, “Perhaps that was my intention, my dear Constance,” she smiled.   
  
“You have definitely succeeded,” she replied, kissing her slowly this time, making sure to savour the moment and take her time. Another way she knew would drive Imogen crazy.   
  
Constance pulled away suddenly. She heard a knock on the door. Imogen just about jumped to the other end of the classroom as a reaction, she found a book and picked it up, pretending to flip through the pages.   
  
“Yes, what do you want!” Constance said, her lips pursed, and her eyes glaring at the poor unsuspecting student.  
  
Imogen put down the book she was pretending to read and excused herself she glanced at Constance as if to say that she would come back later.   
  
“I’m here for detention Miss Hardbroom,” the girl squeaked.  
  
“Well, hurry up, sit down and start your lines!” Constance’s heart rate was slowly returning to normal, they would really have to be more careful. They were fortunate that it was an unsuspecting first year girl, and not someone who really would have relished in the chance to catch Miss Hardbroom kissing Miss Drill. She was also thankful that the student had not actually caught her kissing Imogen, and just happened to see them awkwardly jump apart. She took a deep breath and regained control of herself.  
  
***  
  
While Imogen recognised that it was both her’s and Constance’s fault that they had nearly been caught by a student, she did feel the need to make it up to Constance a little bit, given that she had sort of started it all by going to visit her before a detention. She hadn’t known she was going to have a detention, but she felt responsible all the same. She wondered how exactly she was going to make it up to Constance. She thought about it for a while, and eventually came up with the idea of preparing an area for them to recover her memories in private, setting up everything so Constance wouldn’t have to do it. She knew where Constance kept her potions manuals and went to collect them so she could gather what she needed.   
  
She made her way to the staff-room and collected what she needed from the stationery cupboard, which thankfully was not currently occupied by Miss Bat. The next step was to gather the necessary ingredients for the potion. She knew most of the school’s supplies were kept in the Potion Lab, so she made her way over there. She opened the book and a small note fell out, it was the same one Constance had written the first time they had made this potion together, “Excellent, now at least I know how much of everything to get,” Imogen said. She walked over to the cupboard where all the supplies were kept and grabbed what she needed. She decided instead of carrying everything down to the dungeons where she had planned on setting up, that she would simply brew the potion here and then take it down whenever they were ready to use it. She quickly, almost instinctively, prepared the ingredients and made the potion, “Right that looks about done,” she said, stirring it one more time for good measure. She scooped out some of the potion and placed it into a spare bottle. She was pleased with herself, “I guess I remember more than I thought,” she said, cleaning up the mess she’d made.   
  
She placed the sealed bottle into her jacket’s pocket and decided that if she was really going to make it up to Constance, a change of outfit would be required. She quickly raced up the stairs to her room and choose something more suitable for a night together recovering memories. She regretted not bringing more of a variety of outfits with her, but when she got this job she had not intended to be reunited with her past girlfriend and have the mystery of her life be revealed to her upon doing so. She flipped through her options, considering a few dresses then dismissing them, perhaps something else would do? She wanted something that said ‘well-dressed-witch’ as well as ‘attractive and a bit sexy at the same time’. She decided on black fitted trousers, and a long sleeved v-neck dark purple satin blouse. It was fitted around the waist and flared out slightly at the bottom, loosening up a bit, but still highlighting her shape, and a pair of heeled short boots. She usually dressed in fairly bright colours, amongst the sea of black of everyone else at the academy she was easy to spot, but tonight she decided to join her colleagues (particularly Constance) in their love of deep purple and black.   
  
She looked at herself in her mirror, she was satisfied, she hoped Constance would be too.   
  
***  
  
Instead of waiting for Constance to finish outside the classroom where she was holding her detention, she decided to wait for her in the staff-room, as she knew she would return there after she’d finished. She only hoped that her change of attire would not arouse any suspicion from the other teachers (or students for that matter).   
  
When she arrived at the staff-room, she noticed that it was only occupied by Miss Cackle, who was eating her dinner. She was thankful that it was only her, at least she didn’t have to hide why she was in here waiting for Constance, dressed as she was.   
  
She sat at the table, one chair down from Miss Cackle, as she did Miss Cackle looked up and smiled at her, “Imogen, how nice to see you, there’s some hot water ready for tea if you’re after a cup.”   
  
  
“No thanks, Miss Cackle,” Imogen replied, looking at her watch. Constance should be back soon enough.   
  
“Waiting for Constance are you?” Miss Cackle asked, taking a mouthful of her soup.  
  
“How did you know?” She asked nervously, sitting up straight.   
  
“My dear Imogen, it was not hard to figure out. You two have been joined at the hip for a while now, especially after the ordeal in the forest, not that I blame you of course,” she replied.   
  
Imogen relaxed a little, “We’re going to do some more memory recovery this evening, that’s why I’m waiting here for her,” Imogen told her, “I even made up the potion in advance,” she said, proudly.  
  
“I’m sure Constance will be pleased,” Miss Cackle said, smiling at Imogen.   
  
“Pleased about what, Miss Cackle?” Constance’s voice came as she closed the staff-room door.   
  
“Imogen here has prepared a surprise for you, one which I’m sure you’ll be pleased about,” offered Miss Cackle.  
  
“Have you now? Well, I look forward to it,” Constance replied.   
  
“I have prepared the potion for this evening,” Imogen said, still feeling proud of herself.   
  
“Oh? You have? Well, I must say, Imogen, that is a good sign,” Constance replied, “shall we get going then?” She asked.   
  
“Of course, I have the potion with me, so we’re all set,” Imogen replied.   
  
“Let us begin then,” Constance said, holding out her hand for Imogen to take, “where exactly did you have in mind?” she asked, as they left the staff-room.   
  
“Somewhere more private than the Potion Lab,” Imogen began, “I had thought we should go down to the dungeons, since no one but you ever goes down there and it’s nice and secluded.”   
  
“It will surely be more private than the Potion Lab, we don’t need a repeat of this afternoon,” Constance replied, as they made their way down the long staircase.   
  
“Why do you come down here anyway? Isn’t it too dark and damp?” Imogen asked, as they reached the door.  
  
“Privacy in this school is a rare commodity, one takes what one can get,” Constance replied, “besides, it is peaceful down here.” Constance waved her hand and lit the candles which were scattered around the room on the walls, as well as the one she kept on the table.   
  
“I see what you mean, with the candles, it does look peaceful down here,” Imogen said, sitting at the table.  
  
“Shall we get stared then? You said you have the potion, may I take a look?” Constance asked.   
  
Imogen unbuttoned her jacket, and reached into the inner pocket and took out the potion bottle, she then handed it to Constance.   
  
“It all looks in order,” she said, handing the bottle back to Imogen, “it seems you have made quite the successful potion Imogen,”   
  
Imogen smiled, she was already proud of herself for making it, but hearing it from Constance was certainly more special, and validating. She pulled out the stopper and took a sip of the potion.   
  
_“I’ll see you after the summer’s over, it’s only a few months,” Imogen said, figuring that if she actually said the worlds aloud she would believe them herself._  
  
 _“Months, Imogen, a few months. It’s fine for you of course, you get to go home to your overly affectionate mother and a father who actually speaks to you,” Constance replied, feeling the reality of her situation hit her._  
  
 _“I’ll write you every day, I promise, you’ll end up with a thousand letters all from me, that wouldn’t be so bad would it?” Imogen said, trying to cheer her up._  
  
 _“You say that like I’ll actually get to read them, you should know by now that Father wouldn’t take kindly to his daughter receiving mail from her friend which surely would cheer her up, he would want to read them all first, making sure they were ‘suitable’,” Constance replied._  
  
 _“I could use magic to conceal things in the letter? Like some kind of secret code?” Imogen suggested, determined to find a way of making Constance at least a little bit happy._  
  
 _“I suppose sending one or two letters would not arouse too much suspicion, and you could always send them onto my aunt’s address and I could collect them from there when I visit her, she would not mind if I received mail there,” Constance replied, happy that she found somewhat of a solution._  
  
 _“See, there, I knew we could find a way to make this work!” Imogen said, excitedly._  
  
 _“I’ll miss you, Imogen, being here with you has made my life a lot easier, I am grateful for your companionship,” Constance said, kissing Imogen’s cheek softly, “I would do more than that, however I fear it would make people talk,” she whispered._  
  
 _Imogen smiled, “It’s all right, we will have our time to ourselves eventually.”_   
  
***  
  
“Those months were some of the longest of my life,” Constance said, as she saw the potion’s effect wear off, “but your letters definitely helped.”   
  
“I remember it very clearly, it felt like I was writing to you every day, but I couldn’t bare the thought of you alone all summer feeling miserable in your own house,” Imogen replied.  
  
“You know, Imogen, I still have those letters,” Constance said.   
  
“You do?” She asked, surprised, as Constance had never struck her as the sentimental type.   
  
“I kept them as a reminder of you, hoping that by keeping them it would keep you alive in my memory, after I lost you I wasn’t sure that I would ever see you again, but they were a reminder that you existed and a reminder of everything you had done for me.”   
  
“Well, now I’m here and Broomhead is gone, and we can make new memories together,” Imogen replied, “after I get my old ones back, of course,” she smiled.   
  
“I have been thinking about that Imogen, the memories we have recovered thus far have been fairly simple, but I feel that if we are going to get to the bottom of the mystery of what Broomhead did to you we will need a stronger potion and by doing so it will be more dangerous, are you still wanting to go ahead with it?” Constance asked.   
  
“Of course, I want to recover what that wretched woman stole from me, I want my life back,” Imogen replied.   
  
“Then get it back we shall, I will prepare the potion tomorrow,” Constance said, “do you want to keep going tonight or was this enough?” she asked.   
  
“I think we can stop, and resume with the more powerful potion tomorrow, as much fun as it is rediscovering the past, I so also want to spend time with you in the present,” Imogen said, getting up from her chair and walking over to Constance. She sat on her lap and put her arms around her, undoing some of the pins in her tightly secured bun. She loved seeing Constance with her hair down, especially when it was slightly messy. She put the pins on the table and began to undo the plaits, watching the mass of brown hair cascade down her back. Imogen smiled, “I wish you’d wear your hair like this all the time, it looks especially lovely in this candlelight.”  
  
“It would not be very practical Imogen,” Constance replied.   
  
Imogen smiled again, and lent down to kiss her, savouring the moment. 


	19. she with her honey hair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another M rated chapter ;) just fyi.

_~~Dear Constance~~  
~~Dearest Constance~~  
My dear Constance, It’s only been a week, but it feels like a month has passed. I hope you’re all right. At least the weather hasn’t been awful. One sentence in and I’m already having to resort to weather, this is shaping up to be a riveting letter, I’m sure you’re on the edge of your seat. Yesterday I was telling mum about your learning how to vanish and reappear, all she had to say was ‘Imogen why haven’t you mastered that yet?’ Sometimes I think she’d just rather have you as a daughter so she could boast about someone t ~~o everyone she knows~~. She’s happy for you, and impressed, of course, I mean who wouldn’t be. You’re amazing. ~~At everything~~.  I also may have told her that I took you to the pub…don’t be mad, I didn’t tell her everything, ~~like how we snuck out and how it was basically a date~~ only that we went there because there weren’t any other options. She agrees with you by the way, that pubs are not a place where young impressionable witches should be seen. I miss you. I needed to say that, to make sure you know that I’m always thinking about you. I’ll write you again soon, I promise, there’ll be so much mail coming to your aunt’s house it’ll basically be a post office. _  
  
_Love,_  
_Imogen._  
  
Imogen sealed the envelope and wrote the address Constance had given her for her aunt. She hoped it would find her all right, and that her family wouldn’t be too suspicious, she wanted to make Constance’s summer better not a living nightmare. She put a stamp on the envelope and stored the letter in her bag, and would make sure to find a post box later on.  
  
***  
“Have you ever thought about growing your hair out? Since you seem so fond of mine,” Constance asked.  
  
“Ever since I became a P.E Teacher it’s been easier to keep it short, but I have thought about it from time to time,” Imogen replied, kissing Constance again.  
  
“I’m sure it would suit you, much like everything seems to,” Constance replied.  
  
“You’re not giving yourself enough credit, Constance,” Imogen said.  
  
“What do you mean? I am hardly the picture of fashion.”  
  
“I doubt many witches could pull off your look, Constance, it’s unique to you, you manage to make it look elegant and refined. Most people would just end up looking too harsh and rigid,” Imogen replied.  
  
Constance smiled to appease Imogen, _‘You say that and yet that is how I am perceived, by everyone but you it seems,’_ she thought. She didn’t say anything as she didn’t want to push the issue. She saw her ‘look’ as Imogen had put it, as simple and practical, nothing more, but if Imogen found it attractive then she wasn’t about to complain, “Imogen, I don’t know about you,” she said, changing the subject, “but I’m getting rather uncomfortable with you sitting on me, and sitting on this chair, how about we have a change of scenery?” She asked.  
  
“Sounds fine to me,” Imogen said, smiling playfully.  
  
Constance then vanished them up to her room. They re-appeared just by the impressive four-poster bed which occupied most of Constance’s bedroom. Imogen wondered why someone who barely ever slept would have such an impressive bed, but that was a thought for another time, she was just glad it was so impressive (and comfortable) and that she got to spend so much time in it.  
  
Constance led her to the bed and lent forward, laying Imogen down on it. Imogen adjusted herself so her head was laying on the pillow, and Constance climbed onto the bed and sat with her legs either side of Imogen’s, straddling her. She lent forward and peppered kisses down the exposed centre of Imogen’s chest, where her blouse dipped down into a v-neck. She pushed some of the fabric aside revealing Imogen’s breast and ran her tongue over her nipple, making it hard. Imogen moaned as Constance did this, she was craving more and Constance was continuing to tease her by giving her just a taste of what was to come.  
  
Constance kissed her, making a surge of magical energy flow through Imogen’s body, a feeling she never got tired of.  
  
She then slowly pulled Imogen’s blouse over her head and dropped it over the side of the bed onto the floor, and returned to kissing her chest, slowly moving down towards her belly button.  
  
This was getting to be too much for Imogen, so she took initiative and helped Constance along by undoing her trousers and pulling them off, swiftly. Constance was happy to go along with this and once the trousers had been tossed on the floor, she continued her kisses down further. Feeling the wetness through Imogen’s underwear already, she kissed her through the delicate fabric, while hearing soft moans from Imogen.  
  
She looked up to catch Imogen’s eye, she wanted to see her face as she teased her. She moved herself up, laying on top of Imogen and kissed her. Imogen adjusted herself and sat up, she needed to not be the only one nearly naked. She got up on her knees and went to the back of Constance to undo her dress. She pulled the zipper down slowly and removed the mass of black fabric from her body. Pleased that such a barrier was now gone, she laid back down and Constance resumed her previous position. Imogen moved so that her leg was in between Constance’s, and Constance moved up and down slowly along it, soft moans escaping her mouth as she did. She then moved to remove Imogen’s underwear entirely. She ran her tongue over her most sensitive area, slowly and in circles, hearing more intense moans from Imogen as she did so. Imogen was gripping the bed sheets with every flick of Constance’s tongue. As she continued she gently placed two fingers inside of Imogen, pulling back and forth as she ran her tongue over the swollen area. Imogen was nearly at her limit, she moved her hips in time with Constance’s motions. It didn’t take long for her to reach her climax.  
  
She released the bed sheets from her grip and wrapped her arms around Constance, kissing her passionately in the process, changing their positions so Constance was under her. It was her turn.  
  
Imogen began by kissing down Constance’s neck, down between her breasts. She removed the bra she was wearing as it only hindered her progress. She cupped Constance’s breast with her right hand and massaged it, running her finger over the hardened nipple several times. Constance moaned at Imogen’s delicate motions. Imogen looked at her lover and kissed her again, sucking her bottom lip. She ran her hands down over Constance’s chest and down her stomach, moving herself down so she could start on Constance’s centre. She removed her underwear, which were already quite wet, and ran her fingers through her folds, dipping one in and out of her entrance as she did. She gently placed another finger inside her moving in a slow rhythm, savouring the moment and taking in the gentle moans she heard from her. She gently peppered kisses over Constance’s inner thighs and over her stomach, then focused her attention on what her fingers were doing, as she heard the moans intensify she began moving her fingers faster, eventually bringing Constance to her climax. She removed her fingers and moved up so her whole body as pressed against her lover. She kissed her gently, savouring her taste.  
  
She lay there, on her side, and wrapped her arm around Constance.  
  
* * *  
  
~~_Constance,_~~  
~~_Dear Constance no that sounds too formal_~~  
~~_Connie? God no, what am I thinking?_~~  
~~_Dearest Constance_~~  
~~_Dear Imogen, figure out a way to address your girlfriend or all she’ll end up with is your scribble crossed out on a piece of paper_~~  
_My dear Constance, please excuse the scribble above, this is what I get for trying to vary things up, when really I should just stick with what works. Anyway, now that the longest opening sentence to a letter has been written, how about I actually ask how you are, seems like a good idea wouldn’t you say? So, how are you? Your last letter arrived this morning, I re-read it several times, hoping it would make it last longer. That makes me sound needy doesn’t it? It does. I need to work on that. I can’t help it, I miss you. Plus, I’ve been driven insane by my mother so I need a distraction. She keeps dragging me along with her everywhere. I suppose I shouldn’t be complaining though should I? She means well, and I see her point: I am here to spend time with her, but it’s tiresome sometimes. I helped her make jam yesterday, my dad has a thing about fresh jam on toast for breakfast. I should bring some back to school with me so you can try it, I’m sure even you will enjoy it. I’ve never met anyone who didn’t enjoy my mother’s jam._  
  
_Write again soon,_  
_Love, Imogen._  
  
***  
  
For reasons unbeknownst to Constance, Miss Cackle had allowed Miss Bat to bring several wind chimes into the staff-room as ‘decorations’ because she felt it needed ‘livening up’. She sighed, it was perfectly fine before, well, before it was destroyed by Broomhead and herself.  
  
That was it.  
  
She’d had enough.  
  
It was too much.  
  
She stood up (with authority), “Miss Bat! Please! Some of us are trying to work! Stop with this childish noise!” she yelled, as if she was scolding a misbehaving pupil.  
  
Miss Bat looked at her like a petrified child, “It is just a bit of music Constance, clearly you no nothing about music!” she huffed, and hurried to her sanctuary of the stationery cupboard.  
  
Constance rolled her eyes, well, at least the noise had stopped.  
  
“Was that really necessary Constance?” Miss Cackle asked her tersely.  
  
“It was extremely distracting Miss Cackle,” she replied, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world, and that Miss Cackle was a fool for even asking her.  
  
“It was a bit loud, I’ll give you that, but it hardly was enough to yell at Miss Bat like that, you know how she is, you have to be gentle with her,” Miss Cackle replied.  
  
“Childish and immature I’d call it,” Constance retorted.  
  
“Next time perhaps don’t yell as loud, perhaps?”  
  
“I’ll try,” Constance replied.  
  
“Thank you,” Miss Cackle said.  
  
It was at this moment that Imogen entered the staff-room, confronted with the wind-chimes, she asked, “Miss Bat’s idea I assume?”  
  
“Don’t ask,” Miss Cackle replied, looking at Constance in such a way that warned her about even thinking of saying anything further on the issue.  
  
Imogen understood and didn’t mention it again. She sat at the table next to Constance and focused on writing her student reports.  
  
“Imogen when you’re done, I’d like a word if I could,” Constance said, she still hadn’t figured out how she should be addressing Imogen when they were around the other members of staff. Affection in front of others was not something she was accustomed to and always went with what she knew whenever she spoke to Imogen in these circumstances: Professional.  
  
“Of course Constance,” Imogen smiled, “I should like to have a word with you also,” she said. She understood why Constance spoke to her like she did, but it didn’t mean she had to like it, and she hoped they could figure out a way to make them both comfortable.  
  
“Very well, I shall meet you after my third year potions theory class,” she said, feeling quite satisfied with how she’d handled everything.  
  
  
***  
Imogen laid down the cones in a line, she was setting up a small obstacle course of sorts. The best she could do with the space she had. The courtyard was fairly small but it would do. As she set down the last cone she saw Constance appear a few metres away from her and she started walking over to her, her keys clinking together as she did.  
  
“Hello Constance, and what brings you here?”  
  
“You wanted to speak with me, and I wanted to speak with you, and my third years are finished their class so here I am, speaking with you,” she said, trying her best to act casually and ‘normal’ in-case people were watching, “what is all this anyway?” she asked, noticing the arrangement of orange cones.  
  
“It’s for an obstacle course I’m setting up,” Imogen replied.  
  
“Oh, I see, how,” she attempted to find the right word, “…interesting,” she said.  
  
“You don’t have to like it Constance, I understand it’s not your thing,” Imogen replied.  
  
Constance had to admit she felt relived at Imogen’s words, she did genuinely want to try to understand what Imogen saw in running around in circles and jumping over things, as if people actually got pleasure out of such things, “I am not going to pretend that I understand why you like doing these things Imogen, but I will not dismiss them just because I don’t like them,” Constance said.  
  
“That’s very diplomatic of you, Constance, I feel honoured, shame the same can’t be said for Miss Bat and her wind chimes,” Imogen said.  
  
Constance looked offended, “Are you really taking her side Imogen? Right after I said I would be supportive of your subject?!”  
  
Imogen let out a small laugh, “No, Constance, I am on your side, I’m just teasing. It really was a horrid noise, wasn’t it?”  
  
Constance calmed down, “I’ve heard more charming sounds from farm animals,” she said plainly.  
  
Imogen laughed.  
  
Constance couldn’t help but join her, she was discovering that she found Imogen’s laugh to be infectious and had a hard time resisting laughing with her when she did.  
  
Students started to file out to the courtyard, interrupting their moment and bringing them both back to reality, “I’ll meet you tonight in the potion lab to make some more memory recovery potion,” Constance whispered in Imogen’s ear.  
  
“I look forward to it,” she replied.  
  
“Oh, and Imogen,” Constance said, turning back around to face her, “I am trying, though it will take some time to figure out how we should address each other when we are around others, I just wanted you to know that.”  
  
“Thank you, and I know, me too,” Imogen replied.  
  
Constance smiled, nodded and left Imogen to her class.


	20. we can find a way i don't really care how

_Dear Imogen,_  
_Thank you for your letter, it arrived this morning. I told my aunt I was expecting some mail from my a classmate with regards to a school project to be worked on over the summer. I told her to expect regular correspondence, so I am hoping no one will catch on to our true intentions. This past week I have been here at my aunt’s house, my father had enough of me at the house so he sent me here. I have long since accepted that I will never please my father, but you don’t really want to hear about such things do you? At least I have my studies, that is how I am occupying my time throughout these long days, making sure to keep my skills sharp. I should hope you are doing the same, but I expect not, knowing you. Sometimes I wish I could be as relaxed and carefree about things as you are, Imogen, ~~but it is not how I was made, I can be only one way: the way I am.~~ oh dear, I’m as bad as you now aren’t I? Oh I suppose you’ll say it adds more ‘personality’ to the letter. There is not much else to say, so I shall leave you here, oh and before I forget, give my regards to your mother, who now apparently knows everything about my school life._  
  
_Yours, always_  
_C.H_  
  
Constance re-read over her letter before she folded it and placed it in the envelope. It was not as charming as Imogen’s but it would do. She sealed the envelope and put the letter in her pocket, to avoid any unnecessary questions from her aunt about who she’d written to and why. In the same vein she decided to go and post the letter, ensuring it would get on its way as soon as possible.  
  
***  
  
The fact that she was not on dinner-supervising duty this evening pleased her, it also meant she had time to set up in the Potion Lab and start preparing another batch of memory recovery potion for Imogen. Constance thought about what she was about to do, she herself had never known what had happened to Imogen, as Broomhead had made sure to do it without her knowledge. After recent events she was not sure if she wanted to know, but it was important to Imogen so she was going to do it. She understood Imogen’s perspective, she too would not be pleased if someone else knew a part of her that she didn’t and she would do all she could to retrieve the memory even if it meant finding out a painful truth.  
  
Constance selected the key for the potion lab from the collection hanging from her waist, and opened the door. She pointed her fingers and magic was expelled from them lighting up the candles in the room. She had gathered some fresh ingredients to help make the potion more potent, in addition to the dried ingredients she kept stored in the potion lab. As she began preparing the potion, she heard someone walking towards the classroom, she suspected it to be Imogen, but was also prepared for the possibility of it being a student. She stepped away from her cauldron and walked over to the windows so she could get a better look at who it was. She noticed several fourth year girls dressed in their sports uniforms followed eventually by Imogen. She smiled and returned to her cauldron.  
  
Fenella and Griselda were sitting on the bench in the inner courtyard, and were most definitely observing the scene in front of them carefully. They most certainly did notice that Miss Hardbroom was in the potion lab (again) preparing some mysterious potion (again) and most definitely did smile at Miss Drill. It was all very intriguing. They had been sure something was going on between their two teachers for a while now, Fenella knew about the photo in Miss Hardbroom’s bedroom and of course had told Griselda, it was more a question of was it something in the past or was it still happening now? They watched as Miss Drill made her way to the potion lab, “See, I told you she’d be going in there too, they’re definitely up to something,” Griselda said.  
  
“Remember in the forest, you saw how Miss Drill was after the Inspector was killed, definitely something still going on if you ask me,” Fenella added, “do you think it’s been happening all year? Like since Miss Drill became a teacher here? And what are they doing in the potion lab?”  
  
“Do you think the potion’s for Miss Hardbroom or Miss Drill? And why would either of them need to take a potion this often?” Griselda pondered.  
  
“We should try and sneak over to the classroom, and listen in,” Fenella suggested.  
  
“That’s pretty risky,” Griselda replied.  
  
“You’re right, but do you want to find out what they’re up to or not?” Fenella asked, appealing to her friend’s inquisitive side, “Oh! I just had a brilliant idea, we can use an enhanced hearing spell and that way we wouldn’t have to be so close!”  
  
“Genius, let’s do it, we can stand over in the corridor, and they’ll be none the wiser!” Griselda agreed.  
  
* * *  
  
_Dear Imogen,_  
_Even I must admit that the idea of homemade jam sounds appealing, so I would like it very much if you could bring some back with you when we return to the college. Perhaps once the term starts again we can have a picnic by the river. We could bring some sandwiches with your mother’s jam on them, or some scones perhaps? You’re rubbing off on me Imogen: Constance Hardbroom suggesting a picnic lunch by the river!? Who would have ever thought it. It would be nice though, wouldn’t it? As much as I try to deny it to make my days and nights seem less lonely, I miss you terribly. I am to go back to my parents’ house next week, so I expect our letters will be less frequent. I have concealed all of your letters using magic so my parents will not find them, but their contents will always be with me. I will try to write next week, but don’t worry yourself if it takes a bit longer than usual to get a reply. I will be fine._  
  
_Yours always,_  
_C.H_  
_P.S Never refer to me as ‘Connie’ ever again._  
  
***  
  
Imogen entered the potion lab, observing what Constance was doing, “How’s it coming along?” She asked.  
  
“I believe it is almost ready,” Constance replied, stirring the potion.  
  
“I’m just in time then,” Imogen said, sitting at bench nearest Constance, “do you think we’ll actually be able to find the memory we’re looking for tonight?” She asked.  
  
“I do not know Imogen, it is not as if we can pick and choose which memory you recall, all we can do is try,” Constance replied, scooping some of the potion into a jar, ready for Imogen to drink.  
  
Imogen took the jar from Constance and sipped some of the potion, remembering that it was indeed more potent so she had to be careful with how much she drank.  
  
_Imogen opened up the small notebook she had chosen for her special project, which was to write a diary entry as often as she could to Constance. Now that they had been separated forcibly by Broomhead, it was her only real way of keeping the relationship alive, at least to her, she had no idea how Constance was handling it. She never let on how she felt to anyone (unless you really knew her, it was almost impossible to read her), but she knew she must be hurting too, and this (when she eventually gave it to her) would be a way to cheer her up._  
  
_Imogen began writing her first entry:_  
  
_24th of October_  
  
_It’s finally the weekend, not that that means much around here. So, I decided to start writing you a diary, since we’re not allowed to see each other, or speak to each other. Who is she to be able to decide that anyway? Ok, no, that’s now what I want this to be, the whole point of this is to be able to remind us that good times did exist during this time. Well, I hope they will it’s not like we really have any say is it? Moving swiftly along… I keep thinking and wondering about how you’re spending your time, and I long for the times we took for granted sitting by the river or going for a walk in the forest. I just want to be able to touch you again. No, Constance I don’t mean it like that. ~~Well, actually, yes, I do.~~   I’ll get better at this, I promise._  
  
_Imogen looked over what she’d written, it would do. She knew it would take time for her to be able to write something worth reading. She had a History of Magical Law class in half an hour where she would see Constance for the first time in a few days. She swore that Broomhead scheduled their classes for them and purposefully put them in different ones. The extent of that woman’s influence continued to surprise Imogen._  
***  
“It sounds like Miss Drill is telling Miss Hardbroom a story,” Fenella said, having cast the enhanced hearing spell and now eavesdropping on her teachers.  
  
“Sounds like she’s talking about a diary?” Griselda asked, moving closer to where her friend was.  
  
“Seems like it,” Fenella agreed, “let’s keep listening.”  
  
Griselda nodded and they focused their attention on Miss Drill’s story.  
* * *  
  
_26th of October_  
  
_Another week has started again, another miserable week under the ever watchful eye of Hecketty Broomhead no doubt. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t even be mentioning her name should I? It seems like it would taint this diary, but since she decided to do this to us, I guess I can’t really avoid mentioning her. This room feels so empty. Not that you took up a lot of space, but I can definitely feel a part of it missing, the most important part: you. Your potion demonstration today was great, as usual. I’m glad to see you’re keeping on top of your studies, you’re doing better than me…I’ve been okay, I guess, but I must admit (and I know you won’t be proud of me for saying this) my work has been slipping because all I can think about it how much I miss you. Do you think we could sneak out of the castle sometime? Probably not, Broomhead probably has patrols everywhere making sure we never even look at each other._  
  
_31st of October_  
  
_It was Halloween this evening, I feel like the celebrations went pretty well. Even old Helliboring managed to make an appearance, lucky us, I suppose. You looked marvellous of course, your hair is really getting long now isn’t it? I hope you keep growing it, it’ll be amazing to see it flow all the way down your back. You’re so pretty Constance. What? It has to be said, don’t look at me like that. You know the best part about tonight was (or rather last night I suppose, since midnight has long since past) getting to see you again, actually talk to you again, and of course kiss you again (the kissing was definitely my favourite part). Thank whichever deity is listening that there were so many people around and we were lucky enough to get lost in the crowd and that miserable old hag wasn’t able to stop us._  
  
  
“I remember that Halloween,” Constance said softly, “but I don’t recall you keeping a diary.”  
  
“I’d forgotten about it too, I wonder whatever happened to it,” Imogen said, “I’m sure if we actually had it we would be able to answer a lot of questions. I wonder how long I managed to keep it up for.”  
  
“Would you like to try again and take some more of the potion?” Constance asked.  
  
“I suppose so, yes, I would,” Imogen decided.  
  
Constance poured some more potion into the glass jar and handed it to Imogen.  
  
_5th of January_  
  
_It’s your birthday today, I’m writing this in the morning before we see each other. I wanted to record my thoughts before I go and forget them all the moment I see you again. School starts back tomorrow, I suppose we’ll have to go back to never seeing each other again. What if we didn’t though, what if we actually spoke to each other and actually spent time together, what could she do? ~~She’s powerful and dangerous so probably a lot. Forget I even said that.~~ It’s about you today, wonderful glorious you. Right, I’m going to start getting ready. _  
  
_Back. I’m writing this as I watch you sleep, your head is resting peacefully on my shoulder. It’s really sweet, actually. Sitting here with you makes me feel like we could actually be a normal couple, without the old hag dictating our every move. I just thought about the fact that someday you’ll actually get to read this diary, oh dear. All my bizarre and ridiculous thoughts exposed. I’d better stop for the moment, looks like you’re about to wake up._  
  
_This really seems like a play-by-play version of today doesn’t it? But the most nonsensical version you’ve ever read, just Imogen rambling about her girlfriend sleeping on her shoulder._  
  
_I should really mention the present I got you shouldn’t I? A set of beautiful potion bottles, a simple yet elegant notebook for you to write all of your brilliant thoughts in (since you have so many and they should be preserved forever), and photo frame, to keep that picture of us taken outside the castle, when we came back after the summer holidays last year._  
  
_I don’t want today to end, I just want to be here forever in this moment with you. If I stop writing now, this moment will linger forever in this diary._  
  
“At the risk of sounding like an incredible sap, the way you remember that day is beautiful Imogen, thank you for reminding me of it,” Constance said.  
  
Imogen looked up at her and smiled, the memory of her young self writing about hers and Constance’s life was stirring up many emotions from the time, ones she had quite literally not been able to think about for over a decade. Imogen stood up and pressed her head against Constance’s smiling, preserving the moment for as long as she could.  
  
***  
  
“You know Gris, usually I’m all for snooping and discovering the many secrets this school holds, but tonight I actually feel like we went too far, I feel like we just snooped on a really personal private moment, and I don’t feel good about it,” Fenella said, surprised at her admission.  
  
Griselda looked at her and nodded, “I mean it’s nice to have confirmation of what we suspected, but yes I agree with you. Let’s keep this strictly between us,” she said.  
  
Fenella nodded, “Let’s go before they realise we’ve been here the whole time.”


	21. when i come to terms with this my world will change for me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for taking so long with this chapter, thank being busy and then getting sick. But hopefully I will be able to return to updating regularly. You may notice some chapter images appearing too, I have been making little chapter image graphics to go with each chapter, they will be added as I make them. 
> 
> <3

She hadn’t seen Imogen in days. Something wasn’t right.  
  
She knew it had to be Broomhead.  
  
She ran as fast as her legs could carry her down the long corridor towards Broomhead’s office.  
  
She repeatedly slammed her hand against the wooden door, hoping desperately for a response.  
  
She never got one.  
  
***  
“We accomplished a lot tonight didn’t we?” Imogen said.  
  
“We did indeed, if only you still had the diary, I’m sure it would contain a lot of answers,” Constance said, as she started cleaning up from their potion-making.  
  
“I don’t recall it being here, so I don’t think I brought it with me, but I could always have a look. Maybe I did bring it, without knowing what it was?” Imogen suggested.  
  
“It’s worth a try, I suppose,” Constance replied.  
  
Once they had finished cleaning up, Constance used her magic to extinguish the candles in the classroom. Together they walked to the staff-room, finding it still occupied by Miss Cackle, who was marking some homework, “Second year spells,” she said, predicting Constance’s question.  
  
Constance nodded and sat beside her looking over at the notebooks, “Hmm, I see they are performing as well in spells as they are in potions,” she said, wholeheartedly unimpressed with their students’ performance.  
  
“They’ll get there in time, Constance,” Miss Cackle said.  
  
“You _hope_ they will you mean,” she replied.  
  
“And how are you Imogen?” Miss Cackle asked, it had not escaped her notice that Imogen had been a few steps behind Constance when she entered the staff-room.  
  
“Very good Miss Cackle, Constance and I have been making great progress with recovering my memories, and we have a possible lead which may give us some answers,” Imogen replied.  
  
“How so?” Miss Cackle asked.  
  
“Apparently I kept a diary during the time when Mistress Broomhead separated us and kept us from seeing each other,” Imogen replied.  
  
“She separated you?” Miss Cackle was intrigued, she did not know much of Imogen and Constance’s story, so finding out any little piece of information was interesting to her.  
  
“She did,” Constance answered, succinctly, “and presumably it ended when she erased Imogen’s memories.”  
  
“I do hope you can find the diary then,” Miss Cackle said, “or have Imogen be able to recover her memories.”  
  
“As do we, Miss Cackle,” Constance replied.  
  
***  
  
Mildred scrambled to put her boots on, why were they always so far from her reach whenever she needed them. She decided she didn’t have enough time to worry about tying the laces and figured the fact that she was wearing them would be enough. She nearly tripped over as she ran out of her room and down the hallway. Before she could reach the stairs, a familiar foreboding voice rang in her ears, “Mildred Hubble! How many times have I told you not to run in the corridors! And look at the state of your bootlaces,” Miss Hardbroom sighed, “will you ever learn, girl?”  
  
Mildred lent down to tie her laces, “For goodness’ sake, don’t worry about it now girl, you have a class to get to, my class in fact,” Miss Hardbroom said.  
  
“Yes, Miss Hardbroom,” Mildred said, hurrying down the stairs. With that Miss Hardbroom vanished, likely to the classroom where she would be waiting to yell at Mildred for some other thing she was bound to do wrong.  
  
“I see you finally decided to turn up, Mildred,” Miss Hardbroom said, as Mildred hesitantly entered the classroom, “now go and sit down,” she said.  
  
Mildred went over and sat next to Maud, who had saved a seat for her. Enid, who was sitting just behind Mildred, lent over and said, “So much for soft and kind HB, seems like that memory the other day was all she was capable of.”  
  
Mildred nodded, though she understood more about her teacher than most in the room, she figured her actually being nice all the time would be too much to ask for.  
  
“Enough chit-chat girls,” came Miss Hardbroom’s voice, “now, open your books and start on the exercise on page 7, when you are done I will select one of you and you will demonstrate what you have learnt to the class.”  
  
***  
  
Once they had finished their class with Miss Hardbroom they slowly walked out into the courtyard, to be met with a smiley bouncy Miss Drill, “Great, from one form of torture to another,” Enid said, noticing how much energy Miss Drill had, and wondering how on Earth anyone could have that much energy at 9am.  
  
“Good morning girls! Isn’t it such a nice day for some outdoor activity?” She asked, cheerfully.  
  
Everyone looked at her still half asleep, and nodded out of obligation.  
  
“Come on now, girls, it’s not that bad, besides a bit of morning exercise will wake you right up, and get you energised for the day,” Miss Drill said, in response to her students less than enthusiastic attitudes, “this morning, since you’re all in need of being woken up, we’ll go for a bit of a run and then come back here and complete a short obstacle course,” she could practically hear the disagreement and added,  “and I don’t want to see any moaning and groaning, it’ll be fun, now line up at the gate and when I blow my whistle we run. Ready, set, and go!” She said, blowing the whistle at the end.  
  
The girls reluctantly started to jog, and Miss Drill came up beside them and kept trying to encourage them, “Come on girls, I know you can do better than that, pick up the pace a bit!”  
  
“Is it just me or is her spending so much time with Miss Hardbroom rubbing off on her, I swear she’s becoming more like her by the minute,” Enid said.  
  
Her friends nodded in agreement.  
  
They were most definitely in last place, and had all but given up on actually running so they decided to walk the rest of the way.  
  
“Millie, you never did tell us why you stayed behind the other day after our potions class,” Enid said, still caught up on the idea of Miss Drill becoming more like Miss Hardbroom.  
  
“I just wanted to tell her I thought that her story was nice, and thanked her for sharing it, after everything she and Miss Drill have been through it seemed like the right thing to do,” Mildred answered.  
  
“You mean with the Inspector and all of that?” Maud asked.  
  
“Yes, that, and just in general, they’ve been through a lot,” Mildred replied.  
  
“What do you mean, is there more that you haven’t told us?” Enid asked, “Come on, spill!” she said, always eager to hear gossip.  
  
“They almost lost each other, and Miss Hardbroom has been helping Miss Drill get her memories back from when they were at Witch Training College together,” Mildred replied, “Miss Drill was telling me about it when I was in the concealment spell with her, she said that the Inspector hurt Miss Hardbroom and she would always try to hide it from Miss Drill, as a way to protect her, because she cared for her,” Mildred explained.  
  
“Hang on, are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Enid asked.  
  
“I’m just telling you what Miss Drill told me,” Mildred replied.  
  
“You’re telling me that Miss Hardbroom fancied Miss Drill at school?” The realisation hit Enid, “Which means they’re probably properly together now, oh my god!” she exclaimed, and after letting the thought sink in a bit she added, “I’m not sure if I wanted to know that.”  
  
Mildred didn’t say anything, “It is true isn’t it!” Enid exclaimed, “That explains a lot, actually. All of that stuff in the forest, why they’re hanging out in the potion lab all the time, why HB sent Miss Drill with you into the concealment spell, what HB meant when she told me it was more complicated than I thought, oh wow,” Enid said, piecing everything together.  
  
“Yeah it is, I saw them kiss as well, before Miss Hardbroom did the concealment spell,” Mildred admitted.  
  
“You _what_ now?!” Enid exclaimed, stopping suddenly, “And you never told us?!” she added.  
  
“There wasn’t exactly time, Enid, we were sort of in the middle of saving the school,” Mildred answered, “and besides, I sort of forgot about it after a while, until the events in the forest, and then with Miss Hardbroom’s memory in class the other day.”  
  
“I can’t imagine forgetting that image if I had seen it,” Enid replied.  
  
Before anyone could continue the conversation Miss Drill jogged back towards them as she had wondered what had happened to them, since they were so far behind, “Come on girls, everyone’s nearly finished!” she gestured for them to follow her.  
  
They begrudgingly did so.  
  
* * *  
She stood, trying to suppress her emotions, she had to approach this rationally.  
  
Magic.  
  
She spoke the words and cast the spell, then impatiently tried to twist the doorknob.  
  
Nothing.  
  
She tried another spell.  
  
Nothing.  
  
There had to be another way.  
  
She had to get in there.  
  
  
***  
  
Imogen led the girls back to the castle, and instructed for them to quickly complete the short obstacle course she had prepared. It essentially involved weaving through some cones, reaching a pole at the end with a flag on it which the girls would have to collect and run back with. The first to get the flag and get back first would be the winner. The girls were less than enthusiastic after their run (or walk in the case of most of them).  
  
“HB 2.0 we should call her,” Enid said, reluctantly standing in line behind Mildred.  
  
“It’s not that bad,” Mildred replied.  
  
“This is fun to you?” She asked.  
  
“That’s not what I mean, I just mean she’s still the same Miss Drill as before, she would have made us do this before you know,” Mildred answered.  
  
“Okay, you have a point there,” Enid conceded.  
  
Miss Drill blew her whistle signifying the next girl’s turn.  
  
“Just be glad HB doesn’t have a whistle,” Jadu interjected, having heard her friends’ conversation.  
  
“Don’t even think it!” Enid said.  
  
***  
  
Once all of the girls had completed the course, Imogen dismissed them, much to their joy. She never saw them move faster than when she told them the class was over. She sighed. She could only do so much. She packed up the equipment, returning the courtyard to its previous state and returned to the staffroom.  
  
She sat, wearily, in the small armchair that sat near the fireplace. At least there was some peace and quiet in here.  
  
Soon after, just as she had begun to relax, she was joined by Constance and Miss Cackle. Constance noticed Imogen’s fatigued posture, “Difficult class?” she asked.  
  
“Reluctant,” Imogen replied, “it’s so difficult to get them motivated to do anything physical.”  
  
“I’m afraid I cannot help you there Imogen, physical activity is not a strength of mine,” Constance replied, “but in terms of motivation, I find strong and firm is the best approach. Let them know you mean it, and won’t take no for an answer.”  
  
“Thanks, Constance,” Imogen said, knowing full well she would never employ such a strategy as it was not in her nature, but appreciated Constance’s attempt at support.  
  
Miss Cackle fetched some hot water and poured some tea for everyone, as she felt the situation warranted it.  
  
Just as Miss Cackle placed the cup down in front of Imogen, the door was thrust open and Miss Bat emerged, covered in small bells, coupled with what was apparently some kind of chanting and some wooden sticks being clapped together.  
  
Imogen was so startled by the sound that she raised her arms in defence, and almost as if reacting by instinct, magic flew from her fingertips and darted across the room, narrowly missing Miss Bat. Who screeched loudly in response, which did not help the situation.  
  
“DAVINA! What on _Earth_ are you doing?!” Constance yelled, tersely, staring directly into the other teacher’s eyes with serious intent.  
  
“I-just-I, it’s a new chanting style I was experimenting with,” she replied, feebly.  
  
“The practice of which will stop immediately,” Miss Cackle said, sternly.  
  
“Yes, Miss Cackle,” Miss Bat replied, removing the bells from her dress, and slowly walking over to the stationary cupboard.  
  
Miss Cackle turned to Imogen, “Now, what just happened? It appears we now have a small hole in the door of the staff-room, thanks to you.”  
  
“I don’t know Miss Cackle, it just happened, I couldn’t help it,” Imogen replied.  
  
“It seems Imogen has somehow regained her magic,” Constance said, “this is a significant moment, Miss Cackle, it should be treated as such. The shock of Miss Bat’s ‘chanting’, if you could call it that, seems to have awoken Imogen’s magical ability.”  
  
“What a way for it to happen,” Imogen said, “certainly not how I expected that to go.”  
  
She heard a muffled apology from Miss Bat through the door of the stationary cupboard.  
  
Imogen got up and walked over to the door, “It’s all right Davina, I’m not angry with you,” she said.  
  
Though muffled weeping sounds, Imogen heard a, “That’s good, I’m glad you have your magic back” from Miss Bat.  
  
Constance rolled her eyes, she tired of Miss Bat’s theatrics, however she had a more pressing issue: Imogen and her magic, “Imogen do you think you could cast a spell voluntarily?”  
  
“I don’t know, I suppose all I can do is try,” she answered. Imogen lifted her fingers and pointed them at the vase in front of her, _“Hareatus, Impregnatus, Res Inflaetus, Omnes Flatus!”_ The vase slowly began to rise, “It would seem that I can,” she said.  
  
“Well, this is promising,” Constance replied, “Imogen, welcome back.”  
  
“Thank you, it’s good to be back. I feel more like myself, as strange as that sounds. I may not have all of my memories yet but I feel like I just got a big part of myself back,” Imogen said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout-out to Solsace for the suggestion of how Imogen would get her magic back. She's a comedic genius folks. xD


	22. there was a time when i thought that her destiny should have been mine

_“Imogen!”_ Constance yelled. She turned to Broomhead, “What have you done to her?!” she screamed, looking at Imogen’s seemingly lifeless body slumped over in Broomhead’s grasp.  
  
Broomhead dragged her out of the room, and when Constance attempted to follow her she muttered a spell which slammed the door shut tight, and almost blinded Constance in the process. Constance ran to the door and zapped it with her magic to free herself, by the time she was able to get out there was no sign of Broomhead or Imogen, likely she had vanished the moment she’d exited the room.  
  
Constance was determined to find them. She didn’t know how, given Broomhead could have vanished them anywhere, but she would find a way. The will to find Imogen was all she had left.  
  
* * *  
  
Constance observed that one of her classmates, Imogen Drill, had been unusually distant the last few days, she did not know why, but she seemed to not be aware of her surroundings and barely even glanced at her. She tried to strike up a conversation with her a few times, whenever Broomhead wasn’t around, but couldn’t manage to get more than small-talk out of her, not that they ever had deep conversations mind you. Their graduation ceremony was due to start shortly, perhaps that was it, she thought. She didn’t quite know what had happened, but clearly something had, she herself was having trouble recalling the past few weeks in detail, which was most unlike her, she prided herself on her usually excellent recall skills. She shrugged off her feelings of uncertainty and focused on preparing herself for the ceremony.  
  
As it was an important and official occasion, all of the graduating pupils would be dressed in their formal robes and hats. Constance decided to wear her hair out for such an occasion, so she unravelled it from the lengthy plait which held together her tight bun. She then ran her brush through it to neaten it up. She brushed some creases from her robe and placed her hat securely on her head. She smiled at her efforts, and headed down to the great hall where the ceremony would take place.  
  
Lining up with all of the other pupils, she scanned the room looking for Imogen, she felt drawn to her for some reason, she couldn’t exactly figure out why though. She didn’t recall ever having any significant interaction with her, but she found her pleasant enough, _‘Don’t distract yourself, Constance,’_   she thought, facing forward again.  
  
Everyone began shuffling into the hall to take their seats, they had been arranged in alphabetical order to make the actual ceremony run smoother and more orderly. Constance sat and watched her classmates receive their certificates, and eventually it was her turn.  
  
“Constance Hardbroom, please step forward,” called Mistress Broomhead.  
  
Constance rose from her seat and walked over to receive her certificate.  
  
“A most excellent pupil, continuously achieving a high-standard, I see great things in your future Constance Hardbroom,” Mistress Broomhead’s words were met with applause from the other students and Constance smiled shyly, she was pleased her efforts had been recognised by her meticulous tutor.  
  
“Thank you, Mistress Broomhead,” she said, taking the certificate.  
  
“Thank _you_ , Constance,” Broomhead replied.  
  
Constance walked off the stage and returned to her seat. She sat and observed her classmates receive their certificates, when it got to Imogen’s turn, Constance smiled, she wished she’d made more of an effort to get to know the girl, sure she was a little lax with her studying, but she seemed nice enough, plus she was quite pretty. _‘Not that she’d ever feel the same way,’_ Constance thought. She caught the girl’s eye as she walked back to her seat and smiled at her, receiving a smile back from Imogen.  
  
* * *  
  
It was 8.45am, _‘Damn it! Where are they? Why do I always lose everything?!’_ Imogen thought, scanning the living room, “Ah! There they are, how did they get there anyway?” She said out loud, discovering her car keys shoved between two of the cousins on her sofa. She ran out the door, and once she’d gotten out she realised she forgot her shoes, “Oh they’ll love you for that Imogen, turning up bare foot!” she cursed under her breath and ran back inside to grab them and quickly put them on, finally being able to lock the door and leave. By this time it was 9:00am already.  
  
She raced to her car and quickly got in, she noted the pile applications she’d kept in her car, during the time she’d been looking for a job, she picked up the pile and moved it to the back seat, “Don’t need those anymore,” she said cheerfully, as she placed them down on the seat she noticed a crumpled letter amongst them, she picked it up and read it, it was definitely her hand writing, and she most definitely would write a letter where most of it was crossed out scribble,  but the contents were unfamiliar to her.  
  
_~~Claire? No, that’s not it, Kate? No, not Kate, Carolyn? Corrine?~~ _  
_~~Damn it Imogen, think, you have to remember~~. _  
_Whenever I think of you I remember feeling comfort, and I know we had some hard times, but we always managed to get through them. There was a teacher at a really big school, really strict, what was her name? Damn it, another name I can’t remember._ Think _Imogen,_ think. ~~ _This isn’t helping._~~  
  
She looked over the half written letter, mostly with confusion trying to work out who this person was that she seemed so desperate to remember and why she sounded like she was going mad doing so.  
  
* * *  
  
She arrived at the school half an hour later than she should have, and quickly rushed into the staff-room apologising profusely to her colleagues, “I couldn’t find my keys,” she said. She knew it was an overused and worn out excuse, but it was the truth.  
  
“You should use one of those wall-hangers to put them on, that way you’ll never lose them,” one of the other teachers said.  
  
“Knowing me I’d forget to put them on there,” Imogen replied, ‘is my class already in?”  
  
“Miss Thompson kept them a little longer when she realised you were late, so they should be just finishing now.”  
  
“Oh thank goodness,” Imogen replied. She ran out to the sports shed and began collecting some basketballs for her lesson, and soon her class arrived.  
  
“Good morning everyone! Lovely day for some sport isn’t it?”  
  
“If you say so, Miss,” one of the students grumbled.  
  
* * *  
  
Her day ended with some paperwork, doing up permission slips for the class to go to one of the local pools for their swimming lesson. Eventually she was done, and left. She decided to stop by and pick up some takeaway for dinner, she didn’t really have the energy to cook anything. She stopped by her favourite local curry place and drove back with her usual order.  
  
She sat on her sofa eating her food, looking over the crumpled letter she’d found in her car that morning, she wondered as she read over it again if there were any more letters laying around, perhaps with some more clues as to who this person was and why Imogen was writing to them.  
  
Once she finished eating she searched through her desk drawer, sure enough she found another piece of paper with part of a letter scribbled on it:  
  
_She’s making me forget you, I can feel it, she did something to me, one last punishment. I guess she couldn’t bare to have us leave there telling everyone we met about how awful she was and what she did to us. I am trying to write things down so I don’t forget, but I don’t think I have a chance. I can feel myself forgetting more and more by the day, I’m worried, really worried. What if I forget your name? What if I forget you? What if I walked past you on the street not knowing who you were and how much you mean to me._  
  
“Couldn’t have made it easy and actually written this person’s name could I?” Imogen sighed, leafing through some more papers which had been shoved in her drawers. As she did she thought about the contents of the letter, it seems like her fears came to be and she did forget. She imagined that would feel more significant if she could remember who she was talking about, and decided to see if she could figure it out. She looked in the next drawer, under some notebooks she had stored in there, and came across some more scribbled letters:  
  
_Why can’t I remember?! I can barely even picture your face anymore, you’re important, and you have a presence. You have dark, long hair, but why can’t I remember your name?_  
  
While Imogen was intrigued by this mystery, she also knew that it was getting late and that she would likely not get to sleep if she continued looking through her drawers tonight. She collected the letters she could find and clipped them together with a paperclip, leaving them on her desk for the morning.  
  
She decided to have a quick shower, with the hope that it would clear her mind a bit. She always felt relaxed and clear-headed after a shower. She supposed it was something to do with her love of running, and that it always helped relax her muscles after she’d exercised. She turned on the warm water and let it run over her, she wondered if she would figure out who the person in the letters was, she hoped so, it would be a continual distraction if she didn’t. For some reason she felt fixated on finding out who it was, perhaps the answer as to why was in the mystery itself.  
  
Once she finished her shower and dried herself off, she grabbed her comfy well-loved pyjamas and put them on, and climbed into her warm bed.  
  
She slowly drifted off to sleep, her mind still filled with the contents of the letters.  
  
She was not alone in her dreams, fragmented memories filled her mind, varying scenes she had no idea how to connect.  
  
_“Oh come on, it’ll be fun! You did really well at the swimming carnival, remember?”_  
  
_“Imogen, don’t be ridiculous, I am not swimming in that river, try as you might to convince me otherwise, it is not happening.”_  
  
_Imogen smiled, a challenge. Good, she loved a challenge._  
  
===  
_“Do you always use magic to tie your hair up?”_  
  
_“Not all the time, but whenever I am in a hurry or if I am feeling lazy then I do,” Constance replied._  
  
_“It’s more impressive when you use magic, I like it,”_  
  
_“Then I may just do it more often,” Constance said, kissing Imogen gently._  
  
_“If I get kisses out of it, please, feel free,” Imogen smiled._  
  
===  
_Imogen’s mind was focused on the sound of all the pencils writing on the paper, if not for that there would be no sound. The exam had been going on for an hour already and it seemed everyone was deep into it. Imogen looked down at her half filled out paper, and picked up her pencil again, hoping inspiration would strike her and she would suddenly have the answers the others seemed to have. Why had she not payed more attention to their lecture on reading thoughts, that would be really useful right about now. Not that using magic to get answers off one’s girlfriend was proper or indeed permitted at all, but hey, she could dream. She knew Constance would have everything sorted, she was probably nearly finished, knowing her. She quickly glanced over at Constance and noticed her page was full, and she turned the page quietly to the next one, and continued her likely brilliant insight into the topic. Imogen sighed and decided she should concentrated more on her own page._  
  
_'Back to work,' she thought._  
  
===  
  
Imogen awoke to the dreadful, definitely too loud, sound of her alarm clock buzzing at her. She dragged her duvet over her face and reached her arm out trying to shut up her alarm clock. She patted around on her bedside table and eventually found the buzzing clock and shut it off. She removed the duvet from her face and looked at the clock: _Saturday: 6.45am_ it read. _‘Damn it, I forgot to change it over,’_ she said. Thankfully it was the weekend so she could just go back to sleep, but with all of the distractions the previous night she had forgotten not to set her alarm for this morning. She laid there thinking about her night, and vaguely remembered dreaming about something, she couldn’t quite figure out what her dreams were about though, and with the seconds and minutes passing by, despite her best efforts, they faded even more from her mind.  
  
She turned over onto her side and decided to go back to sleep for a little.  
  
* * *  
The brightness of the sunlight eventually woke her up at about 10:00am. “Much better than 6.45am,” Imogen said to herself as she got out of bed. She searched for her slippers, and dressing gown and hobbled out to the kitchen. She desperately needed coffee, or at least a strong cup of tea failing that.  
  
She searched her pantry and found some coffee.  
  
Once she had made the brown elixir, she inhaled the comforting aroma and took a sip. She took her cup over to the table and thought to check her mail, hoping the newspaper had been delivered already. She peeked through the slat and saw that it had. She opened her door and picked up her mail, including the newspaper and several shopping catalogues she would never need.  
  
She undid the newspaper and started leafing through it, straight to the classifieds section. She felt okay in her current job, but she did think maybe something different and more challenging would be a good idea. She scanned the many job postings, looking for one that may interest her. She wanted to stay in teaching, of course, but something more interesting than her local high school was what she was seeking. She turned her attention to the next page, where in the bottom left corner, she found a small ad which simply said: _We are seeking an enthusiastic P.E teacher to join us. All-girls boarding school. Accommodation provided. Contact Miss A. Cackle at Cackle’s Academy for further information._  
  
Imogen tore out the ad, and set it aside. It sounded promising, and certainly a boarding school would be more of a challenge. There wasn’t a phone number attached to the ad, but instead an address where applicants could post their letter of interest and their CVs to. _‘How unusual, not to have a phone number,’_ Imogen thought, jotting down the address. She took it over to her desk and began to write her letter expressing her interest.  
  
Once she had finished she figured she could go for jog down to the post box and mail it straight away, _‘I’m really doing this, I’m really applying for another job,’_ she thought. She sealed the envelope and went back to her room and got changed into her running gear and headed out with the letter to the post box.  
  
She placed it in and felt like she had made the right decision.


	23. your memories come and find me

Amelia handed her another application, “What do you think about this one Constance? Seems promising, taught at Weirdsister College for two years,” she said.  
  
“Yes, she may well have, but look at her time before that, three schools in three years, we want someone committed Miss Cackle,” Constance sighed. It was always so difficult finding appropriate candidates.  
  
“I suppose you’re right,” Miss Cackle replied, turning her attention back to the pile in front of her. She quietly leafed through the remaining applications in front of her, there didn’t seem to be any more promising candidates. While she had Constance helping her sift through them, ultimately it was her decision to make with which candidate to choose.  
  
Constance stood up and transferred her pile over to Amelia’s side, “I shall leave these with you for the moment, Miss Cackle, I have a potions class to teach,” she said, noticing the tired look in Miss Cackle’s eyes.  
  
Amelia looked up at her deputy, “thank you Constance,” she said wearily.  
  
Constance left the room and Amelia was alone with the many piles of CVs in front of her. She took one from deep in Constance’s pile and examined it. The woman seemed promising, she’d been teaching P.E at a high school in the local village for the past three years and seemed to have some excellent references. Amelia did notice that none of the schools she had attended or taught at were Witch Academies, the thought did not bother her, as she was looking for a P.E teacher not a Spells teacher, but she knew it would probably bother Constance a little.  She decided to keep a hold of the CV for herself and not mention it to Constance.  
  
Later that day, she sat at her typewriter and composed her letter offering to meet with the woman for tea and cake to discuss the position. She figured if she had to interview someone she may as well do it in a place that had cake. She had chosen Cosie’s Café down the road as their meeting spot. Reliable and delicious cakes, sure to impress any prospective teacher. She had included Mrs Cosie’s phone number at the tea rooms in case their (hopefully) new P.E teacher wished to reply to her letter via telephone. She did acknowledge that most people did outside of the magical world did use electronic devices and would surely find correspondence solely by mail a bit unusual. She had checked with Mrs Cosie and she had agreed to take a message and pass it onto Miss Cackle if the candidate phoned. She finished typing her letter and tore the paper from the typewriter and sealed it in an envelope.  
  
* * *  
  
Each day that followed from when Imogen had posted her application, she eagerly checked her mail promptly as it arrived, hoping to find a response. She couldn’t quite pinpoint why she was so invested at joining this school she knew very little (practically nothing) about, but it seemed like the right path to take. She hadn’t mentioned anything to her current school yet, ‘best not to get too ahead of yourself,’ she’d thought.  
  
This particular Tuesday, when she had arrived home she picked up her mail and discovered a letter from the school she had applied to. It had been a few days since she replied to the ad, so it surprised her to have such a quick response. She held the letter as if it was about to decide her whole future, she didn’t know it, but her intuition was telling her the truth more than she realised. Her life was about to change dramatically.  
  
She turned over the envelope and opened it. She took out the letter and carefully unfolded it. As she read she got more excited, and more hopeful that this was going to work out for her. She noticed that they had included a telephone number for her to call, though it belonged to a tea rooms close to the school. She wasn’t about to complain though, the idea of meeting at a café for a job interview seemed like a nice idea, especially one in a small village, if for no other reason than it would be less intimidating than a headmistress' office, certainly. She quickly went over to her phone and dialed the number, and let the lady who answered that she would pass on the message to a Miss Cackle, that she was indeed interested in meeting there for an interview.  
  
They arranged a time after school for the following day, and Imogen was also given directions on how to get to the café. She thanked the lady, who’s name she found out was Mrs Cosie, and hung up the phone.  
  
* * *  
  
The following day, to most people Imogen passed on her way home from work, was an ordinary Wednesday. Overcast, looking like it was about to start raining any minute, and definitely not warm.   She drove not really thinking about anything in particular, and as she turned onto her street, she realised she had somewhere to be. She turned around as quickly as was safe, and headed towards her meeting place. The café, she had checked again, was located outside the main area of town in a more isolated part of a nearby village, nestled in the forest. She parked in the village and walked the rest of the way to the café. The walk was pleasant, and when she arrived she was greeted by a woman who turned out to be the Mrs Cosie she had spoken to on the phone.  
  
“Welcome, you must be Imogen, Amelia has been expecting you, please come in.”  
  
“Thank you,” Imogen said, making her way into the quaint café. It reminded her of her grandmother’s house, definitely befitting of the name of “Cosie’s Café”. Mrs  Cosie led her over to a table surrounded by comfortable lounge chairs and already covered in an assortment of delicious cakes and pastries.  
  
“Nice to meet you Imogen, I’m Amelia Cackle. Mrs Cosie took the liberty of preparing some cakes for our meeting, which was very kind of her indeed,” she said, gesturing for Imogen to sit.  
  
“Thank you, Amelia, and thank you Mrs Cosie, it looks wonderful,” Imogen said, sitting down opposite the older woman.  
  
“Please, help yourselves, there’s plenty of delicious cakes to be enjoyed!” Mrs Cosie said, “I’ll leave you two to it, and if you need anything Miss Cackle, I’m not far away.”  
  
“Thank you Mrs Cosie,” Amelia replied. She turned back to Imogen, “Would you like some tea?”  
  
“Please,” Imogen replied.  
  
Amelia picked up the flower covered teapot and poured some for Imogen, into an equally flowery teacup, “I reviewed your application, and you seem like the perfect fit, I must say,” she said putting the teapot back on the table.  
  
“Really? That’s lovely to hear,” Imogen said.  
  
Amelia picked up a slice of lemon cheese cake, and dug her fork into it, “Yes, of course, now, what do you know of our little school?”  
  
“Only what I read in the newspaper ad,” Imogen replied.  
  
Amelia brought the fork and piece of cake to her mouth and exclaimed how delicious it was, “You really must try some of this cheesecake Imogen, it’s delightful,” she said.  
  
Slightly taken aback by Miss Cackle’s enthusiasm, Imogen picked up a slice for herself and took a small bit off the end, “Mmm, yum,” she said, totally understanding why Miss Cackle was so enthusiastic about it.  
  
“You won’t find better cheesecake anywhere,” she said, “Mrs. Cosie’s is the best.”  
  
“So, you were going to tell me about the school?” Imogen prompted, she feared if she didn’t all she would get out of this meeting was more cheesecake in her stomach.  
  
“Oh, yes, right, of course, well, it’s not like other schools you’ve taught at,” Amelia began.  
  
“Yes, I noticed it was a boarding school,” Imogen said.  
  
“That’s not the only reason,” Amelia said, “can I trust you Imogen?”  
  
“Yes, I see no reason why you can’t, what is it?” Imogen had no idea where this conversation was going, but she was intrigued.  
  
“Well, you see, our girls are not ordinary girls. It’s a school for witches,” Amelia said, eating another mouthful of cheesecake.  
  
“Witches? Actual witches? With broomsticks, and pointy hats and everything?” Imogen asked, she had thought correctly, she had not expected that, but if anything it made the possibility of getting this job all the more exciting.  
  
“There’s a bit more to it than that, but yes,” Amelia answered, glad she had not scared Imogen away.  
  
“I had no idea that any such thing existed, to be truthful,” Imogen said.  
  
“We don’t advertise it, we prefer to keep to ourselves,” Amelia replied, “our school is located on the hill in the forest, in a castle you probably know as Overblow Castle,” she said.  
  
“The one that’s in ruins? That has signs all around it that say it’s unsafe for the public? That one?” Imogen asked.  
  
“It’s not quite in ruins, and we may have cast a few spells on it to make it look like it was unsafe so prying eyes would keep away, but yes, that’s the one,” Amelia told her.  
  
“I’ve always wondered about that place, so it’s wild to find out it’s actually a school!” Imogen exclaimed.  
  
“Imogen, I have a good feeling about you, I think you’ll fit in well with our group,” Amelia said, cheerfully and with another forkful of cheesecake at the ready.  
  
* * *  
  
Constance could feel her memory leaving her, she tried to hold onto as many details as she could. She wasn’t going to let Broomhead win, she had survived this long after all.  
  
She tried to concentrate and think where she could have taken Imogen. It was getting more and more difficult to focus, but the thought occurred to her that she probably took her to the dungeons.  
  
Constance folded her arms and took herself there.  
  
Immediately upon arriving she was flung back from the door and came crashing to the ground almost instantly. She felt dizzy and disorientated, as well as extremely sore all over. Attempting to stand up did not go well at first, but she persevered and eventually managed to. Broomhead cast various roundabout spells all around her, not even giving her a slight chance of stopping her from doing whatever she was doing to Imogen.  
  
As she stood trying to figure out what to do, she was having more trouble holding onto thoughts. She could feel them fading from her.  
  
* * *  
  
“Does that mean what I think it means, Miss Cackle?” Imogen asked.  
  
“Well, I should discuss the matter with my deputy first, but I don’t foresee any problems there,” Miss Cackle said, knowing she was not being entirely truthful, as Constance being Constance would surely object to some part of this plan. Namely the fact that Imogen was not a witch, but Amelia rarely let Constance stop her from having her way when she really was certain of something. She was still the headmistress after all, she could make the decision herself, “We’ll be in touch in the next few days,” she said.  
  
“Excellent,” Imogen replied.  
  
“Oh, one more thing, I suppose it’s rather important that I mention it, we don’t have electricity at our school, it’s quite traditional that way. Is that going to be a problem for you?” Miss Cackle asked.  
  
“No electricity?” Imogen asked, surprised.  
  
“We found that it interferes with all of the magic we generate too much, it’s safer for us to not use it. We can usually find ways around it using magic if we must, it may take you some getting used to though,” Miss Cackle answered.  
  
“I see,” Imogen replied, “I’m sure it will be fine,” she said.  
  
“Good to hear,” Miss Cackle said, digging her fork into the last remaining piece of cheesecake on her plate.  
  
* * *  
  
Constance was sat at the table in the staff-room, the afternoon sun (and its warmth) was slowly fading, she noticed as she looked out onto the courtyard. She returned her attention to the pile of CVs in front of her, surely there had to be a decent candidate amongst all of them. Her “no” pile was growing at a larger rate than her “maybe” pile. She picked up another one from her unread pile when Miss Cackle joined her.  
  
“No need to look any further, Constance, I think I have found our new P.E Teacher!” She announced, walking up to Constance.  
  
Constance looked up at her, “Really? You have?”  
  
Miss Cackle sat in the chair next to Constance and replied, “Yes, I just met with her at Cosie’s, and she seems perfect Constance.”  
  
“Miss Cackle, as much as I am thrilled to not have to look at one more application, I am a little taken aback that you didn’t consult me first, I must say,” Constance said.  
  
“I do value your opinion Constance, and your assistance with going through all of these applications, but at the end of the day it was my decision to make, and I have made it,” Miss Cackle answered.  
  
“As you wish, Miss Cackle,” Constance replied, “tell me about this new P.E teacher then.”  
  
“Well, she’s young, she’s energetic and, well, now Constance don’t be alarmed, but she’s never taught at a witch school before,” Miss Cackle replied.  
  
“She what?!” Constance replied, clearly doing the exact opposite of what Miss Cackle said, and became very alarmed, “But Miss Cackle, I-how-is that really a good idea?”  
  
“Constance, she is here to teach P.E not spells, it will be fine,” Miss Cackle said, calmly.  
  
“We’ll see about that,” Constance mumbled under her breath.  
  
* * *  
  
Imogen said her goodbyes to the nice headmistress and made her way back to her car. She was hopeful she had gotten the job, but also realised she would have to tell her current school she was leaving and couldn’t exactly tell them where she was going. She did feel like this was the right thing to do though.  
  
She drove back to her flat, and decided a cup of tea was in order. Even thought she had just been eating cakes and drinking tea, this was more of a I-just-made-a-big-decision-in-my-life kind of cup of tea, she couldn’t not have one.  
  
As she walked back past her desk, she noticed a piece of paper sticking half out of the drawer, she opened the drawer and looked at it. It just had a name underlined, as if doing that was intended to make her remember it: Constance.  
  
“Constance?” She read out, “Why is that familiar?”  
  
She took a sip of her tea, and then read the name aloud again, “ _Constance_ ,” hoping if she put some emphasis on it it would mean something to her, “is that who I was trying not to forget?”


	24. now i live in your path again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's done. This story which started out from a simple idea I had one night, "what if Imogen and Constance knew each other at Witch Training College?" It's now a 50,000+ word story. I have been reluctant to write the ending, since it would mean having to let go of this story and not be able to immersed in this world any longer. I may write in this universe again, I'm not sure. I don't want to over do it just for the sake of trying to capture the fun I had writing this story again. If it happens it happens, but even if not, I am satisfied with everything that I was able to write in this story and I don't think I left anything out. Thankyou to everyone who has read it and enjoyed it, especially to Solsace, the best reviewer ever, and someone who I can now call a friend because of it <3 xD. 
> 
> I have also made note of all of the chapter titles, and the songs they have come from in the end notes, in case you're wanting to listen to the soundtrack to this fic, as it were. :)

  
* * *  
Constance had finished putting her belongings into the many boxes she had managed to get her hands on. Luckily for her, she was able to use a convenient spell she had picked up for storing large amounts in few containers, while also making them light. She had condensed her belongings into one box. She felt rather satisfied. She placed the last of her things into the box before saying the spell, as she closed the box she noticed a photograph. She picked it up and looked at it, it was their class photo, from their graduation.  
  
As she studied the photo, her eye was drawn to one particular face. Suddenly, she remembered: Broomhead and the spell, her memories, and most importantly: Imogen. She immediately stood herself up straight at said, “ _Reversus revolvus omnes resolvus, Congnitus recallus instantatus liberas ideticus_!”  
  
Slowly her memories began to return to her. She realised Broomhead had acted in haste in casting the spell on her and had not been able to fully finish it before escaping with Imogen, as such the effect was not as powerful on Constance as Broomhead had intended.  
  
 * * *  
Imogen had just come from telling her principal that she was transferring to another school, the other teachers had decorated her desk in the staffroom with balloons and going away presents, and they had all signed a card for her. Seeing her coworkers appreciation for her made it difficult for her to leave, but she knew that what she was doing was right. She could feel that this was what she was meant to do. One of the English teachers helped her carry all of the balloons and gifts to her car as she left.  
  
“We’re sorry to see you go Imogen, I’m sure the kids will miss you as well,” she said.  
  
“Really? I don’t know about that. They were never too keen on P.E,” Imogen replied.  
  
“Oh, don’t say that, I’m sure some of them enjoyed it.”  
  
“I suppose, I just hope that the students at my new school will be more enthusiastic,” Imogen replied.  
  
The other teacher smiled, “here let me help you get these in your car.”  
  
* * *  
Imogen managed to carry all of the gifts up to her flat and dropped them all onto the sofa as she walked in. She would go through them later. Now she had to think about packing. Miss Cackle had told her that she would have her own accommodation at the school, so she would need to pack up her things and get them over to the school. Miss Cackle told her that she would be able to start whenever she was ready, and that there wasn’t any urgency, but Imogen was keen to start her new adventure.  
  
She collected up some packing boxes and started (trying) to sort everything into them. It started out well, but soon became put whatever in whatever box because finding a spot for every last thing was tiring and beyond her brain capacity at the moment. She realised she had, like many people, accumulated a large amount of junk over the years, like why did she still have several magazines from 1988? She had no idea. She put the pile of magazines to the side and found some more notes that she had written, in trying to remember the woman named Constance, “Constance?” She said out loud, “Isn’t that the name of that woman I met at the conference a few years ago? It must be, she fits the description of having a presence, and long dark hair, I wonder whatever happened to her?” Her memory of the conference was hazy, and the events following it even more so, as she thought back to that time, she wondered why she had been so desperate to find her again.  
  
As the hours past, it seemed that less boxes had been filled and more piles created. Imogen looked at her watch, it was already past midnight, “I really should give this up and go to bed,” she said to herself. She managed to free herself from the pile of books and magazines and made her way through the mess into her bedroom. Within moments of her head hitting her pillow, she was asleep. Packing (or rather putting things into piles and wondering how you were going to sort them) was exhausting.  
  
* * *  
  
Seeing her life packed up into boxes made it feel like she was moving to a distant country, leaving all that she knew behind. It wasn’t that dramatic in reality, but it felt momentous. She had decided to take only the necessities and had put the rest in storage, so if she needed to get anything in the future, she could. She had decided to sell her car though, she realised she would have no need for it, and really no where to put it. From what she’d seen of the area around the school, having a car would only make things difficult. With some of the money from the car sale, she bought a nice bicycle and figured she would use that to get around.  
  
***  
  
Constance didn’t know how Imogen would be taking the fact that she was a witch again, but she herself needed some time to adjust to it. While she’d known all along that Imogen had once been a witch, she had gotten used to Imogen not being able to use magic. Since Imogen had gotten her powers back, Constance had been observing her, and how she was handling the change. She couldn’t think of any other way to describe it that it being like a kid playing with a brand new toy they’d received for their birthday. Constance worried that she was being a little too enthusiastic with her magic and warned her that while it may seem like it, it wasn’t a toy.  
  
Constance’s words had put a bit of damper on Imogen’s fun, but she realised she was right, and she couldn’t just use it for every little thing. They taught the girls not to be careless with their magic, so why should their teachers be exempt from that?  
  
***  
  
Constance rubbed her hands together, getting the last of the dust off them, “Imogen!” she called, noticing her walking past the store room.  
  
Imogen turned and looked back, “Constance? What are you doing in the storeroom?”  
  
“Just come over here, would you?” She asked, moving the pile of books out of her way so she had a clear path to the door.  
  
Imogen walked over to the storeroom door and stood looking at Constance, who was still covered in  what looked like years of accumulated dust, “Does no one ever clean these rooms? Someone should have a word to Mr. Blossom about that,” Imogen said.  
  
“What do you think I’ve been doing Imogen? Rolling around in dust for fun?” Constance retorted.  
  
“You’re not cleaning are you?” Imogen laughed, surely someone else would be better suited to this kind of physical labour than Crinkled-fabric-free Constance Hardbroom.  
  
Constance shot Imogen disapproving a look, and answered, “I was looking for some files for Miss Cackle, and I came across this,” she said, handing Imogen a small notebook.  
  
“What is it?” Imogen asked, taking the dust-covered book from Constance.  
  
“Open it,” Constance told her.  
  
Imogen opened it and flipped through the pages, “Should I know what this is?” She asked.  
  
“Do you really not recognise it?” Constance asked, perplexed.  
  
“Not really, I mean, it’s sort of familiar, but I can’t think why,” Imogen replied.  
  
Constance reached out her hand, “here, let me have that for a moment,” she said.  
  
Imogen handed it back to her and watched her softly say a spell. She then handed Imogen back the notebook.  
  
“Tell me if you recognise it now,” Constance said, “concentrate.”  
  
Imogen took the notebook back in her hands, and leafed through it again, taking more time to read what was written. As she read the words, it started to come back to her, “This is my diary, from Witch Training College…but how? And why has it been stuffed in a storeroom all this time?”  
  
“I do not have an answer to that, but you have it back now,” Constance replied.    
  
Imogen flipped to the last entry, along the way she noticed some torn pages, some had fragments of words still left from the page on them, while others were totally ripped out, no trace of what had been written on them, “How did we let this happen? All of what Broomhead did to me?”  
  
“I don’t think we ever had a choice, Imogen, Broomhead was too powerful,” Constance said, “I don’t know if I ever told you this Imogen, but she tried to do the same thing to me as she did to you. The day of our graduation ceremony, she tried to wipe my memories. I was trying to stop her from hurting you and she hastily cast a spell, not fully being able to stop me, so it wasn’t as effective as the one she used on you,” Constance explained.  
  
As she listed to Constance recount the memory, Imogen realised why the pages were torn, “Constance, I just realised, before I started here at Cackles, I remember I found some pages that looked like letters to me at the time where I was writing about you in hopes that I wouldn’t forget. I was getting increasingly frustrated that I couldn’t remember you. When I found the pages, I didn’t realise what they were and I was fascinated, trying to figure out who the person I was trying to remember was. I was desperately trying to hold onto my memories,” Imogen said.  
  
“She may have taken your memories in the past, Imogen, but you have them back now. You are yourself again, she didn’t win. We did. I am here with you and she is no more,” Constance reassured her.  
  
* * *  
  
Imogen rode her bicycle through the uneven terrain of the forest, hoping she was on the right path toward the castle. She kept her course, and when she could see the castle’s spires in the distance become closer she knew she was all right. She approached the gate, and saw the sign, ‘Miss Cackle’s Academy for Witches’, “This must be the place, then,” she said, getting off her bicycle.  
  
Imogen took in the woman standing in front of her and wondered how she ever forgot that face, how it had been so long that this impressive, gorgeous, and formidable woman had been absent from her thoughts. Images, emotions, sensations, came rushing back into her mind, “Constance? _Constance Hardbroom?_ ” She repeated her name hoping it would help clear her mind, but instead she felt even more perplexed, and slightly light headed.  
  
“You two know each other?” Miss Cackle asked, looking first at Constance then back to Imogen.  
  
“ _My_ Constance Hardbroom?” She spoke without thinking, she was still trying to process what was happening. Imogen continued to study the face of the woman before her, and suddenly it dawned on her, “You’re the one from my letters, the one I’ve been trying to remember.”  
  
Constance stood silent, trying to work out what Imogen was talking about, and also being slightly worried that she apparently had forgotten her.  
  
“It _is_ you, isn’t it?!” Imogen exclaimed. Suddenly it all made sense to her.

  
  
_la fin_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 1: these dreams of you don't lie  
> (Please Drop Off My Heart - Lauren Frost)
> 
> Chapter 2: life keeps moving and i'm ten steps behind  
> (Please Drop Off My Heart - Lauren Frost)
> 
> Chapter 3: those memories and that life  
> (Voice - Taeyeon)*
> 
> Chapter 4: show me what you keep hidden  
> (Original line: show me what you won't show anyone else)  
> (I Found You - Taeyeon)*
> 
> Chapter 5: i gazed into those eyes i like  
> (Horizon - Taeyeon)*
> 
> Chapter 6: your lingering voice echoes again and again  
> (Voice - Taeyeon)*
> 
> Chapter 7: you give me the love to live  
> (Horizon - Taeyeon)*
> 
> Chapter 8: in solitude i know you can hear it  
> (Signal - Taeyeon)*
> 
> Chapter 9: if i could make a wish, even a glance would be enough  
> (original line: If I could make a wish, even a glance would be all right)  
> (Voice - Taeyeon)*
> 
> Chapter 10: even as the world is shaking, the light shines through  
> (I Found You - Taeyeon)*
> 
> Chapter 11: these pieces of me you still hold  
> (Please Drop Off My Heart - Lauren Frost)
> 
> Chapter 12: i chase after your shadow; i run as though i'm fleeing  
> (combined two separate lines)  
> (Voice - Taeyeon)*
> 
> Chapter 13: yes, with a message from my heart; clutching a faded photograph  
> (original line: clutching her faded photograph my image under her thumb/yes with a message for my heart)  
> (Girl - Tori Amos)
> 
> Chapter 14: she finds a way and from the shadows she crawls out  
> (original line: and in the shadow she finds a way/and in the shadow she crawls)  
> (Girl - Tori Amos)
> 
> Chapter 15: guess i'm holding onto treasures, to words i wish to hear  
> (Fight Against The Hours - Lene Marlin)
> 
> Chapter 16: the way she paints the world, i want that in my life  
> (Another Girl's Paradise - Tori Amos)
> 
> Chapter 17: like a good book, i can't put this day back  
> (A Sorta Fairytale - Tori Amos)
> 
> Chapter 18: if you're a thought you will want me to think you (and i did, and i did)  
> (Scarlet's Walk - Tori Amos)
> 
> Chapter 19: she with her honey hair  
> (Toast - Tori Amos)
> 
> Chapter 20: we can find a way, i don't really care how  
> (Runaway (Korean Remix version) - Tiffany Young)
> 
> Chapter 21: when i come to terms with this, my world will change for me  
> (Parasol - Tori Amos)
> 
> Chapter 22: there was a time when i thought her destiny should have been mine  
> (Scarlet's Walk - Tori Amos)
> 
> Chapter 23: your memories come and find me  
> (Time Spent Walking Through Memories - Taeyeon)**
> 
> Chapter 24: now i live in your path again  
> (Time Spent Walking Through Memories - Taeyeon)**
> 
> *translated from Japanese  
> **translated from Korean


End file.
